Queen of Sorrow
by Lord Syntax
Summary: In stories, the hero always arrives just in time to rescue the captured damsel. But in reality, the world does not work that way. When no hero comes to save Lucia's life, Elincia embarks on a path of sorrow, pain, and perchance evil. // Radiant Dawn AU
1. Sundered Heart

_Introductory notes:_

_This is a "what if" story about Elincia, who happens to be my all-time favorite FE character (tied with Hector), and her struggles as the queen of a small nation in a hostile world. "What if" or "AU" doesn't mean that people act out of character and that I make random stuff up, but simply that there is a point where the story of of this tale diverges from the story of Radiant Dawn (right after the Endgame of Part 2, to be exact). Events will develop differently from that point on, but everybody's characters and motivations should still be recognizable._

_The main players of the story will be Elincia, Geoffrey and Ike, but I plan to make full use of Radiant Dawn's humungous cast of characters for supporting roles. The plot is based on a simple premise, but may not go where you expect it to go (I think this is supposed to be a good thing). Character development will happen, as well as a character death. Or two. Or five. You have been warned._

_The fic will be multi-chaptered and probably pretty long, but I've successfully completed long stories before, and I promise not to drop the whole thing halfway through (unless I keel over dead, which would really suck). Feedback in the form of reviews will be much appreciated, but I won't make the continuation of the story dependent on a certain number or anything like that. That said, feel free to hit me with any criticism that comes to your mind, and I hope you enjoy reading this._

_And... here... we... go!_

* * *

Part I: Queen of Anguish

**  
Chapter 1: Sundered Heart**

A cold wind was blowing across the battlement of Fort Alpea, chilling Elincia to the bone in spite of her padded suit of light armor. Staring down at the makeshift gallows erected in front of the fort, the Queen of Crimea felt as if she was standing on a snow-covered mountain peak, freezing to death with not a friendly soul nearby.

In actuality, her dear friend Geoffrey stood only paces away from Elincia, in arm's range if she chose to extend her hand. What little warmth his touch might have given her would have been enough to make her feel less miserable, but she did not reach out to him. This was something she had to endure on her own, although she knew not how.

"I will be strong, Lucia," she whispered to herself, and closed her eyes for an instant. The temptation to simply stay like that was powerful and threatened to overcome her, but she forced herself to open her eyes again. Anything less would feel like wronging Lucia, cheapening her sacrifice.

"Your Highness!" The loud voice of a rebel soldier reached Elincia's ears up on the battlement. "Your trusted friend will now die. Let this burn forever in your memory!"

_And that is precisely why I mustn't close my eyes_, she thought. And yet, at this moment, she wanted nothing more than turn around, flee the battlement and hide in the darkest corner of Fort Alpea.

"People of Crimea... Behold a true queen! YOUR queen! Long live Queen Elincia!"

Lucia's voice, unbroken by her mistreatment at the hand of Ludveck's men, pierced the veil of sorrow around Elincia's heart, and she took a step closer to the parapet. How dare she wallow in self-pity when it was Lucia who was about to be robbed of her life? When she was standing tall and proud amongst her captors, praising a queen who was so utterly unworthy of praise?

_I will never be as strong as you, Lucia. But I will do my best._

Two rebel soldiers stepped toward the gallows, which consisted of little more than a wooden platform and two beams supporting a crossbar to which a sturdy rope had been tied. There was no trap door to quickly break the neck of the condemned, so the soldiers seized the end of the rope and yanked it backwards. Elincia cringed when Lucia was pulled upward, the noose tightened around her bruised neck. She did not struggle or squirm or anything of the sort: She held her head high, trying to meet the gaze of her queen and childhood friend one last time.

Elincia felt her throat constrict, as if she, too, was being choked by an invisible rope. Her hand traveled involuntarily to the hilt of her sword Amiti, but there was nothing she could do with it. Even if she were to mount her pegasus, Ludveck's men would simply finish Lucia off before help arrived, cutting short the last few seconds of her life.

A choking noise nearby made Elincia peer to her side for an instant. It was Geoffrey, who was staring at his sister dangling in the noose, his fists clenched and his skin pale. Never in his life had she seen him so helpless and desperate. But even though a word from Elincia might yet save Lucia, Geoffrey did not plead with her. He had done so before, and had been denied, and that was that. Having accepted this horrible reality of Lucia's impending doom, the commander of the Royal Knights remained as silent and motionless as a rock.

"It is not too late to change your mind!" The voice of the rebel soldier had a desperate edge; he knew that by killing their only hostage, he and the rest of his men were condemning their Duke, not to mention themselves. "Your friend can still be saved! Release Duke Felirae now!"

But Elincia had made up her mind before: As much as she resented her position, she was the rightful Queen of Crimea, and the duties of that position weighed heavier than the obligations of friendship. She did not even bother with a reply, adding her own silence to that of the crowd of onlookers, who had ceased in their noise the instant Lucia had been pulled up. She wondered whether the people – her people – approved of the execution, approved of Ludveck's rebellion – did they think her a weak queen, too?

_Not after today_, she thought, and hated herself for it.

Another gust of wind enveloped Elincia, and she shivered. The wind ebbed away as soon as it came, but she found that she could not stop shivering, her gaze locked on the blue-haired figure dangling below.

_Forgive me, Lucia. Your death is on my hands. If I had only quelled the rebellion sooner... _

_I swear, I'll never let something like this happen again!_

Two more times, a rebel soldier called out to Elincia, begging her to reconsider, his voice increasingly nervous shrill. But before he could finish his last plea, one of his comrades interrupted him, shook his head, and pointed at Lucia's lifeless body swaying in the wind. The soldier stared in shock at the corpse, as if he had only now realized what he had done, and fell silent.

"Lucia..." Elincia whispered, and her hands and limbs trembled uncontrollably. The two hangmen let go of the rope and Lucia's body slumped on the wooden platform. She looked like a doll carelessly thrown away by a child who had found a more interesting toy, and Elincia found the sight more than she could stand. Her legs gave in, and she stumbled forward, reaching out for the parapet to support herself. Still trembling, she missed, and would have fallen off the battlement had Geoffrey not stepped in and thrown his arms around her waist.

"Your Majesty," he said as he gently pulled her to safety. "Elincia. I... I..." Words failed him, and Elincia allowed herself to rest in his strong arms for a few seconds. She silently cursed her weakness at the same time as she was grateful for his presence.

_Now that I have lost one of my dearest friends, I must value the others all the more._

Even as she futilely tried to hold back her tears, part of Elincia was surprised by her own powerful reaction. Had she not watched both of her parents cut down by Ashnard without collapsing? Had she not heard their last labored breaths as the Mad King turned his attention to her, a fiendish grin on his face? She still re-lived those moments from time to time, during particularly troubled nights, but they had not had the same effect on her as this.

_Back then it was Geoffrey, too, who rushed to my aid_, she recalled. Then, unrelated:

_My parents rarely visited me in the royal villa, to keep the secret of my existence hidden, even though they resented that necessity. But Lucia has been at my side for as long as I can remember... That must be why it is so much worse this time._

The sound of a man clearing his throat roused Elincia from her stupor. Several Crimean soldiers were with her on the battlement, peering at their queen with sympathetic, but also expectant expressions. Geoffrey immediately shot an angry glare at the man for distressing the queen, but Elincia softly shook her head. "It's all right," she said, and let go of his arms, making a first, shaky step with her own two feet.

"I'm pathetic," she said, angry at herself. "Displaying weakness _again_. That's what made all this possible in the first place!"

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Eli... Your Majesty," Geoffrey said, returning to his usual mode of addressing her in the presence of others.

"But I must be," Elincia said resolutely. "On myself... and on others." She walked towards the parapet again, satisfied that her legs had almost completely stopped trembling, and looked down once more. The eerie silence from before had made way to increasingly loud murmurs among the crowd surrounding the gallows, and nervous agitation among the rebel soldiers.

_They're not even a threat anymore_, she told herself, and tried not to linger on the white-clad corpse lying in the middle of the throng of men. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she turned around and faced Geoffrey, who seemed to regard her with more devotion than ever.

"This crime cannot go unpunished," Elincia told him, and noted with satisfaction that her voice did not waver. "I must demonstrate strength now more than ever!"

"Your Majesty," Geoffrey said, "I am your loyal servant. Just give me an order and I will fulfill it, no matter what it is."

"Take all of your knights who can still fight and disperse those murderers," Elincia commanded. "We must retrieve Lucia's body, so she can be buried properly."

"It will be done," Geoffrey replied. "But what if the rebels surrender? Which seems very likely, given their hopeless situation."

"Kill only those who resist, and let those who would flee, flee. And take care not to hurt the onlookers."

"As you wish," Geoffrey said. "And yet..." he added after a moment of hesitation. "It is an unseemly thing to say for a knight, but part of me wants to slaughter them all." His face was an expressionless mask, but there was a savage edge to his voice that Elincia had never heard before. It seemed that even a virtuous knight like him had his limits.

It was not that she could not relate to Geoffrey's feelings – indeed, part of her shared his unbridled fury; an emotion she had not felt since facing Ashnard in the gardens of the Royal Palace three years ago. But just as she had allowed the surviving Daein soldiers to return to their country after their defeat, she would permit these rebels to return home again sometime soon – even those who had led Lucia to the gallows. After all, they had merely acted as executioners – the real murderer was somebody else.

And this _somebody _would soon learn just how cold and callous this queen could be.

"I cannot allow a massacre among my people. Not even among those who took up arms against me. Direct your ire against the real culprit behind Lucia's death."

"Ludveck," Geoffrey growled.

"Indeed." Elincia glanced at the other soldiers, whose undivided attention rested on their queen. "I promised earlier that he would stand trial," she said, "but that was before... before..." She almost choked up and concealed it by spitting out, which resulted in several raised eyebrows among the men around her – as far as anyone knew, this was probably the first time the queen had spat in public.

"According to Crimean law, the punishment for treason is death," Elincia continued. In fact, she had put a hold on all executions shortly after her ascension to the throne, but she now realized that this had been a demonstration of weakness – one of the many that had led up to this day. "Therefore, a trial would be mere formality."

"I agree wholeheartedly," Geoffrey said. "Not that you should concern yourself with my opinion, Your Majesty," he quickly added. As with everything he ever said to his queen, it sounded utterly sincere.

"On the contrary," Elincia rebuked him. "I should have listened to you more." She recalled now that Geoffrey had volunteered to bring Ludveck in before he had even started his revolt – if she only had listened to him instead of sending Lucia...

Lucia...

Elincia realized she was drifting off into despair again, and shook her head violently.

"Once you have cleared out the remaining rebels and recovered your sister's body, I want you to drag Ludveck out of his cell and to those gallows," she said, cold rage burning inside her. "Don't even bring him before me again, just string him up there for all to see."

It felt strange, hearing these words coming out her mouth – a few hours prior, Elincia would have been shocked at the notion of denying even a man like Ludveck his trial. But things were different now. She wondered if Lucia would have approved of her vengeance, but that kind of thinking would get her nowhere.

"I'll see to it personally, Your Majesty." There was a hint of satisfaction in Geoffrey's voice that Elincia found unsettling and reassuring at the same time. Unsettling because it went against Geoffrey's character, but reassuring because it vindicated her own vengeful emotions: She was not the only one who wanted to see Ludveck pay for what he had done. As long as Geoffrey did not object to her orders, she knew she was doing the right thing – his devotion was different from blind zeal, and he would tell her when he feared that she was straying from the path of good.

_We are only humans, after all. We can stand only so much pain before... before something has to give._

"Any further orders, Your Majesty?" Geoffrey asked.

"No, that is all."

"By your leave, then," her knight said and went on to fulfill his duty. Elincia stayed on the battlement and looked at the white-armored soldiers whom she had led to victory only minutes before. She feared that they would accuse her of hypocrisy, that she had changed her mind about executing Ludveck only after her personal loss, but the men were seemingly unconcerned with such details: All of them had lost friends and comrades in the battle today, and, if anything, Elincia's decision to forego mercy only made her stock rise in their eyes. "Is there anything you would have us do?" one of them asked.

"Uh... yes," Elincia said after a moment's thought. "With the Royal Knights riding out, we need more men to guard the wounded rebel soldiers, at least until we're sure they've been disarmed."

"I might 'disarm' some of those scum myself," another soldier said and moved his hand across his arm like a saw. "If you know what I mean."

"Don't!" Elincia said sharply. "They... they were only following the orders of their duke. They didn't have much of a choice."

"It's probably not my place to speak, Your Highness," a third soldier said, "but they did have a choice. All of us had. They just made the wrong one."

"Perhaps so. But they're still Crimeans. Still our countrymen. We must be able to forgive them, or we'll never know peace again."

"If you say so, Queen Elincia," the first soldier said, sounding not particularly convinced. "Well then, let's go to work, you lot!" he called out, and the other soldiers followed him down into the courtyard of Fort Alpea. Elincia's gaze followed them for a while, and she noticed that the sorting of the dead had already begun: The fallen rebel soldiers were unceremoniously thrown onto a corpse pile, while the bodies of those who had stayed loyal to their queen were being neatly lined up to be buried individually. The wounded, too, were split in two groups: The rebels were merely given herbs and the occasional vulnerary to take care of their injuries, while the clerics with their superior healing staves dedicated themselves only to Elincia's men.

_This is perfectly normal_, she thought, recalling similar scenes after the battles during the Mad King's War. _They look out for their own first. I could enforce equal treatment, but that would only lead to needless resentment. It's enough that the rebels are not being mistreated._

_And perhaps that soldier was right. Perhaps they deserve it for making the wrong choice._

Elincia was disgusted by her own thought, but before she could reflect on it more closely, her attention was directed at the scene below by the hoofbeats of the Royal Knights charging out of the fort with their Geoffrey in the lead. They clashed with the remainder of Ludvecks's men, but it could hardly be called a battle: As expected, the men were demoralized and did not put up much of a fight; many of them did not take up arms at all and simply fled, and the remainder took advantage of Geoffrey's first offer to surrender to lay down their arms.

While the rebels were led inside the fort to be confined, Elincia watched Geoffrey make his way to the gallows. He knelt down in front of his sister's body for a minute, then gently lifted her up and carried her inside the fort. Although he must know that his queen was watching him from above, he did not look up, absorbed in his own grief.

_Of course he is. Lucia was every bit as close to him as to me._

Elincia spent the next few minutes in a strange state of anticipation, staring down at the entrance of the fort and waiting for Geoffrey to re-appear. When he finally did, she heard it before she saw it, because a tempest of curses and insults rose among his men. Even the Royal Knights were not above jeering at the shackled Ludveck as he was being led to his execution – not only had he rebelled against the queen, but had the much-liked 'Lady Lucia' murdered, and from what Elincia could hear from her vantage point, the general consensus seemed to be one of 'good riddance to the traitor'.

_His death won't bring Lucia back. But it'll prevent a repeat of a similar tragedy in the future. Let the nobles call me soft again after today! They'll finally get the queen they wanted._

_Then again, they'll probably find something to complain about. But somehow, I have a feeling they'll be carefully wording their criticism, so as to not arouse my anger._

Elincia never wanted to be feared by anybody, but now, she had to admit to herself that it might be useful to be feared by some.

"My queen! I beg of you, have mercy on me!"

Ludveck's voice roused Elincia from her thoughts, and she saw that he had been dragged to the gallows. Geoffrey was standing to the right of the Duke of Felirae, and a red-haired knight to his left – she quickly recognized him as Captain Kieran. Kieran was the one to put the noose around Ludveck's neck, while Geoffrey seized the other end of the rope, ready to execute his queen's command.

"Please, Elincia! Mercy! Show me your famed mercy!" Ludveck was looking right up to her, his voice desperate and shrill – a far cry from the confident, downright smug tone he had taken not long ago, when Elincia herself had traded blows with him.

_In the face of death, people reveal their true character._

"Mercy! Mercy!" the duke cried again and again. Geoffrey, too, was looking up to Elincia, waiting for her reply to this last plea. Elincia felt a pang of pity for the wretched noble below, and was suddenly assailed by doubts. Was she perhaps acting too rashly? After all, this was not something she could take back.

But she had only close her eyes and recall the image of Lucia dangling on the gallows; her beloved friend of two decades turned into a lifeless puppet on string.

_Burned forever in my memory, indeed. You got exactly what you bargained for, Ludveck._

"I have no more to say to you," Elincia cried out. "By your actions, you have judged yourself." Unsure that her words carried all the way down to the gallows, she drew Amiti from its scabbard, its blade still bloodied, raised it into the air, and brought it down in a gesture that could not be misunderstood.

_Do it, Geoffrey!_

Geoffrey obeyed his queen's command, and Ludveck's pleas were abruptly cut off as his feet were lifted from the ground. The kingdom's first knight was struggling to keep the Duke of Felirae in the air, but he did not request aid, nor was it offered: Everyone knew that Lucia had been his sister, and clearly, no one wished to diminish his revenge by assisting him.

_I pray this is the last time any of us has to avenge anything_, Elincia thought as she watched Luvdeck's futile struggle: The former rebel leader would not die with dignity, but swung himself back and forth, trying to kick Geoffrey who took the blows without flinching. Elincia felt no amusement at this sorry display, but there was a cold satisfaction that could not be denied.

"Queen Elincia!" a melodic voice suddenly sounded behind her. She turned around, and saw that the heron princess Leanne had ascended the battlement (or flown up here? Elincia had not heard the flapping of wings, but then again, her attention had been elsewhere). She was accompanied by her guardian, the aged raven Nealuchi, who was missing quite a number of feathers, but seemed otherwise uninjured, though his sorrowful expression made it clear that he knew what had happened.

"I heard... of your friend," Leanne said as she came closer, her voice fraught with sympathy. "I am very sorry."

"T-thank you," Elincia stuttered, taken aback by the two laguz' sudden arrival. She made an involuntary step back and hit her lower back against the parapet. "I'm glad to see both of you well." Only now did she notice that her voice sounded much hoarser than usual, especially compared to Leanne's voice that almost like singing even when she was merely talking.

"You look very sad," the princess said, and she made another step toward Elincia, oblivious to her discomfort. "And I feel..." Leanne suddenly stopped and put a hand on her forehead. "What... is this?"

"My Lady Leanne, are you feeling well?" Nealuchi came to the side of his ward immediately and inspected her with visible concern.

"Much sadness," Leanne sad. "And other feelings. Bad ones... anger..." She took a step backs from Elincia, and the queen noticed that she was avoiding her gaze.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," Nealuchi said, "but you know how sensitive the herons are. All the negative emotions on the battlefield have taken their toll on her." He raised his hands in the air and shook his head. "I was against this from the very beginning, but she insisted!"

"That's quite all right," Elincia said, raising her palms in a placating gesture. She was feeling incredibly dirty, having been caught gloating over somebody's execution. She knew about the herons' abilities to look into a person's heart and mind, and she did not like what Leanne was seeing in hers.

"But it's strange that she would only be affected now, after the battle is over," Nealuchi mused, scratching his white goatee. "She was holding up so well before. I wonder why that is."

"Yes, me too," Elincia said nervously. She looked at Leanne, but the heron princess was still avoiding her, whispering something to herself in the old language. "Perhaps you should leave this place," she suggested innocently.

"Yes, I think you're–"

"The traitor is dead!" Kieran's voice suddenly boomed through the air from below. "Long live Queen Elincia! Long live Crimea!"

Elincia spun around on the spot and leaned over the parapet, looking down just in time to see Geoffrey let go of the rope and watch Ludveck's body slam on the gallows' wooden platform while the onlookers erupted in cheers. The sight of the corpse evoked a strange emotion in her, one that she had only felt once before in her life: When she had beheld the corpse of Mad King Ashnard, murderer of her father, mother and uncle. It was a feeling of _rightness_: That this person deserved to be dead, _ought_ to be dead, that his death was more natural than his living had ever been.

"Now what kind of spectacle is going on down there?" Nealuchi asked when Kieran's cries were echoed by hundreds of throats, and made a step toward the parapet. "My eyes aren't what they used to be, but–"

However, before the aged raven could take a look, there was a dull thud, and both he and Elincia turned their heads, only to see Leanne lying collapsed into a heap, pressing both hands against her head in visible discomfort.

"My Lady!" Nealuchi leapt to her side. "What is it – ah, curse my wandering mind!" He knelt down in front of Leanne and carefully lifted her on his back. "We're leaving immediately! I'll carry you, just like when you were a child, remember?" In response, Leanne mumbled something in the old language again while wrapping her slender arms around Nealuchi's neck.

"I'm sorry for the sudden departure, Your Majesty, but this old one is going to heed your advice. We can return later, when Lady Leanne has recovered."

"What... what is she saying?" Elincia asked, fearful for some reason.

"She's sensing very powerful hatred," Nealuchi replied absent-mindedly as he walked toward the parapet. "It's the emotion that makes the strongest impression on the herons."

"Hatred," Elincia repeated stupidly. "I... see. Then you really should be going." She watched the old laguz spread his black wing and leap of the battlement, quickly gaining height even with Leanne's weight on his back. "And thank you for your assistance!" Elincia shouted when they were almost out of earshot, her own words almost drowned out by the ongoing chants from the men and women assembled in front of Fort Alpea.

"Long live Queen Elincia!"

"Long live Crimea!"

Though still confused and more than a little bit frightened by Leanne's sudden collapse, Elincia was accustomed enough to her role as the queen to turn towards the cheering masses and wave, eliciting yet another surge of triumphant cheers. When she drew Amiti once again and raised it high, the cheers became positively thunderous and did not ebb away for a long while. But all the ovations in the world could not make Elincia forget Nealuchi's words:

"She's sensing very strong hatred."

_Was I really feeling hatred? It was the same emotion as with Ashnard._

Back then, nobody seemed to have noticed anything, even though Leanne and her brother Reyson had been nearby.

_Perhaps my hatred for Ludveck was simply stronger. Didn't I wonder about that before?_

Once more Elincia felt dirty, as if a part of her had been exposed in front of Leanne that nobody should ever have seen. Or was she simply too concerned about appearances?

_So what? _she thought in defiance of her own shame._ I, too, am capable of hatred. It's only human, after all! Not everyone can be as tranquil as the herons!_

For no reason she could name, Elincia suddenly recalled the original purpose of Leanne's presence: She had been looking for the Greil Mercenaries, to 'save her brothers', whatever that might mean. And not for the first time in the last few days, Elincia wondered were in the world Ike and his company might have vanished to.

_If only they had been nearby... Perhaps they could have helped. Perhaps they could have saved Lucia._

Elincia shook her head, wary of such futile thoughts. The idea of the Greil Mercenaries staging a daring rescue of her childhood friend was like something out of a story.

"But things like that don't happen in the real world, do they?" she whispered to herself.

Prompted by the still ongoing cheers below, Elincia raised her hand and waved again, although she was feeling no joy; in fact, she was completely worn out from the battle and what had come afterwards. But there would be little opportunity for rest – she had so much work ahead of her. Dissolving the rebel army without creating undue resentment, mending the wounds that Ludveck's rebellion had torn, dealing with the no doubt upset nobles, nominating a new Duke of Felirae...

And getting used to living in a world without Lucia.

That would be the most difficult part.


	2. Late Arrivals

**Chapter 2: Late Arrivals**

Less than an hour after Ludveck's execution, Geoffrey left Fort Alpea with a quarter of the Crimean Royal Knights, to find out whether it would be safe for the queen to return to Melior. Elincia watched him depart from the battlements, part of her wishing that she had sent Kieran or somebody else in his stead, aware that she was sending away her greatest remaining pillar of strength, now that Lucia was gone and Bastian on a mission in far-away Daein.

_But that's the point_, she chided herself. _I must learn to be strong by myself, especially at a time like this. I will rely on Geoffrey more than ever now, so it's particularly important that I don't become too dependent on him._

In truth, Elincia would have preferred it the other way round – to be able to depend on him entirely, unconditionally, as she had always done before. But she knew beyond any doubt that things were different now: Just like Lucia, any of her friends and servants might be taken from her at any moment. In the future, she would have to be prepared for that.

_If I had never become queen, none of this would have happened, and Lucia would still be alive. But there was no alternative! I'll be damned if I ever let Crimea fall into the hand of a monster like Ludveck!_

Elincia decided that she had to do something – anything – to keep herself busy and stop thinking about Lucia's fate, so she descended from the battlement into the fort's courtyard. There were still many wounded from both armies waiting for treatment; far more than the few clerics could handle on their own, and Elincia was skilled enough with healing staves to reduce their workload a little. As usual, the clerics wanted to make a fuss and tell her that the queen surely had more important things to do than getting herself all bloody while mending gashes, but one angry glare from Elincia took care of their objections.

_I can't help Lucia anymore, but at least I'll be able to save the lives of others._

Elincia worked swiftly and efficiently, stopping only once to replace the staff when it ran out of chargers after a dozen uses. Not all wounds could be cured with magic, though: Lost limbs or eyes could not be re-attached, nor could damage to vital organs be repaired. On several occasions, she had to sadly shake her head and tell an agonized soldier that there was nothing she could do for him. She had always had difficulties with that, but for some reason, she found it a little bit easier today.

"Hush, get that thing away from here!" an annoyed male cleric suddenly complained somewhere nearby.

"We're treating people first, not your winged mares!" another seconded. "These staves have their limits, you know!"

"Oh shut up, you self-imporant jerk," an agitated female voice said, "you have more of these lying around than people to use them! Just hurry and fix his leg, and I'll be out of your face, windbag."

"I don't see the problem," the first man replied sardonically, "the beast still has three good legs left."

"Oh, that does it!" Marcia shouted – it was her, of course; who else would take such a tone with a healer? "I'll just have to slap you pallid monk impersonators real good until you–"

"Marcia!" Elincia called out, and drew the attention of the young pegasus knight immediately. "Don't worry, I'll take care of this." She rose and walked toward Marcia's pegasus, past the clerics who were suddenly very silent. One of the pegasus' hindl egs had been injured – probably a cut tendon or muscle; nothing the healing staff could not fix.

"Your... Your Highness!" Marcia knelt down next to Elincia while she healed the pegasus' wound. "You shouldn't be working in your condition!"

"And what exactly is my 'condition', Marcia?" Elincia asked while the blue glow of the healing spell enveloped the wound. "There, done, and as good as new," she added without waiting for an answer.

"Th-thank you..." Marcia stared at her pegasus' healed leg, then back at her queen who rose again. Then, more slowly and with deep sympathy: "I heard about Lucia. I'm so sorry."

"Thank _you_ for your sympathy," Elincia said, and frowned immediately; her words had sounded much more terse than she had intended. "I'm serious," she added quickly.

"Remember what I told you back then, Queen Elincia," Marcia said while patting her pegasus with one hand. "You're not alone in this. You still have many friends left."

"I'll always remember that," Elincia said and forced a smile. "But please, don't look at me with that pitiful expression. I've had my fill of pity to last me for a lifetime... ah, what am I saying! It's like I'm trying to insult you!"

"No, not at all!" Marcia shook her head empathically. "I totally understand what you mean. When people pity you, they make you feel small. It's like they're telling you: It's OK to be helpless, because then everybody will sympathize with you. Right?"

"Are you sure you're not a heron in disguise, Marcia?" Elincia asked, and this time, her smile came a little bit more easily. "It seems that everyone can read my feelings today."

"And where's the problem with that?" Marcia demanded. "Look, you're probably thinking right now: 'I must steel myself! I must become hard and cold!'" She took a step forward and clasped Elincia's hands. "But only against your enemies! You don't have to act like that in front of your friends!"

"Hm..." Elincia allowed herself to hold Marcia's hands for a second, then let go of them. "You're being pretty profound today, do you know what?"

"What? Oh, hogwash. I'm just trying to help."

"I know. I'm relying on you." Elincia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "How fares your brother?" she asked then, recalling that Marcia's sibling Makalov had entered the fray along with Geoffrey and his knights. "I hope he survived the battle."

"Oh, don't worry about that useless lump. Not even he is dumb enough to get himself killed against the likes of–" Marcia stopped in mid-sentence and stared in shock at her own words. "Oh, gourd, I'm so stupid! I didn't mean–"

"Leave it be, Marcia," Elincia waved her aside, too weary to be insulted by a careless remark like this. "I'm happy that at least you didn't lose anyone close to you."

"Uh... yes," Marcia muttered and fell silent for a while, clearly afraid of committing another faux pas. "But at least you made sure Ludveck won't hurt anybody anymore!" she finally said.

"I know that his sudden execution must have seemed very rash..." Elincia began, but Marcia would have none of it.

"Aphew, you actually went easy on him! If he had tried the same shenanigans in Begnion, the Senators would have slowly roasted him over a small fire. And wouldn't that have been something to see..."

"So you don't think I overreacted?" Elincia asked cautiously, feeling the familiar shame creeping up on her again.

"Not a bit! He so deserved it after what he did to Lucia!" Marcia swept her arm in a wide arc around them, to the wounded and fallen soldiers. "Not to mention all the others who have suffered because of him!"

"I won't allow anything like this to happen again," Elincia said, aware that she was probably repeating herself. "I promise you that."

"And I'll do what I can to help! So, any orders, Your Highness?" Marcia had returned to her usual cheerful self, but Elincia detected a faint shiver in her voice. The hour-long battle against Ludveck's forces had greatly drained her strength, and her face and hair were still wet with sweat.

"Just take a long, good rest," Elincia said, and raised her hand to cut off the expected protest. "There won't be anymore fighting today."

"Yeah, not after that beating we gave them!" Marcia said happily and seized the reins of her pegasus. "Come on, boy, let's get you some water," she said as she led her mount towards the stables. "And some for me, too," she added before they disappeared among the crowd of Crimean soldiers.

_She still treated me like a fragile, weak woman_, Elincia thought, _that with the 'I'm sorry!' and 'don't worry!' and all._ She felt no resentment towards Marcia for that; after all, she _had_ been fragile and weak for the last three years. _I just won't give her any more reasons to think of me this way, and her behavior will change accordingly._

Elincia was about to take up her staff again and continue treating the wounded (not without chastising herself for wasting so much time with private conversation) when a soldier noisily made his way through the throngs of people while calling her name.

_I pray he doesn't bring any more bad news_, Elincia thought and straightened herself. "What is it?" she asked calmly.

"There's a group of soldiers approaching from the south, Your Highness," the man reported. "They must have approached while we were busy fighting the enemy here!"

_More rebels? _Elincia dreaded the thought of another battle – had she not promised Marcia that the fighting was over? "What banner are they flying?"

"None that we could see."

"Very well," Elincia nodded. "I'll take a closer look at them myself. If they're rebels, we'll lead them to the corpse of their leader and ask them if they still want to fight." She considered taking her pegasus, but decided against it: Out in the open without any support, a single hit by an archer might be enough to bring her down. Instead, she quickly made he way to the front gate, and as always, the crowd instantly parted before her as soon as she was recognized. There was a group of a dozen or so knights mounted just outside, and after motioning one of them to cede his horse to her, Elincia told them to move out towards the approaching soldiers.

"As you command, Your Majesty!" their leader shouted. It was Kieran, left in command of the remaining knights, bursting with enthusiasm as per usual. "We, the Fifth Platoon of the Crimean Royal Knights, will guard you with our very lives!"

"I hope there'll be no need for that," Elincia said sourly while driving her horse forward, forcing the knights to catch up with her. She heard one of them bite back a curse at their queen's impetuousness, only to be immediately dressed down by Kieran even as he pulled his horse up to hers.

"Allow me to take the point, Your Majesty. It would be a shame to lose you after today's victory, don't you think?"

"Only if you can keep up," she replied and drove her horse to renewed speed. As long as she had Amiti and a swift mount, she was in no more danger than any other soldier, and though her knights were well-meaning, they had a tendency to be overprotective that could no longer be permitted. Let those rebel soldiers see the 'weak' queen charging at them with her sword held high!

"You are an inspiration to us all!" Kieran shout behind Elincia, but inspired or not, he and the other armored knights were much heavier than their queen, and none of them caught up to her until they faced the encroaching host at the edge of a forest. Elincia brought her horse to a halt and inspected them cautiously: It was not a large company, and certainly not a regular army; rather a mixed band consisting of all kinds of fighters, many of them wearing mismatched armor and weapons. Their leader was a tall, muscular young man with blue hair and a large sword in his right hand, and Elincia recognized him instantly even from afar. Then she threw back her head and laughed bitterly.

_Gods, this is too much! It's Ike and his Greil Mercenaries! To think that they would appear now, of all times. I even thought of them earlier._

"Your Majesty!" Kieran and the others had reached her. "What's going on? Do you know who they are?"

"Of course! Look at them, Kieran! It's Sir Ike!"

"Oh. Oh. Yes, I see now." The second-in-command of the Royal Knights nodded sagely. "A pity they arrived so late, isn't it?"

"Yes," Elincia whispered. "A pity." _If they had only been faster, then perhaps Lucia... but no, I mustn't think like this! It's none of their fault, after all._

"It makes me wonder where they have been during these last months," Kieran said. "But I'm certain Sir Ike will tell us all soon enough."

"I'm sure he will," Elincia said, and had her horse move forward in a slow, unenthusiastic trot,. She did not feel like facing Ike now – Ike, who had always been so ridiculously strong (and not just physically), no matter the hardships, and without whom she would have never become queen. She was afraid that his mere presence would somehow reduce her to the helpless princess of her past, utterly dependent on her sworn protector (or rather contractually bound protector, as it were). But there was no avoiding it – he was a hero of Crimea, and now that she was here, she would have to talk to him, if only to inform him that the rebels had been soundly defeated.

_Actually, it's almost preferable that it turned out this way... that we defeated Ludveck without Ike's help. Otherwise, the nobles would still claim that I was weak, and that I was saved only by the strength of another._

_Almost... if not for Lucia..._

As Elincia approached the Greil Mercenaries, they were bound to recognize her – the white-clad queen with the long, green hair was not easily mistaken for another, especially in the company of a dozen knights. Also, for the first time today, Elincia became aware of the red stains on her light suit of armor. She had spilled blood several times during today's battle and was looking far from pristine.

_Good. Let them see me as a warrior queen – a different impression from the one they got three years ago._

Respectful cheers arose among the Greil Mercenaries when Elincia approached them; after all, most of them were Crimean citizens. She, in turn, recognized many of them from their time together: Mist was there, running in front of her brother, who was flanked by Titania on the left and the young mage Soren on the right. Mist waved happily and made a little leap, and Elincia raised her hand in return. Ike's expression, on the other hand, was as stoical as ever. She did not fault him for that; she had learned early that he was not as emotionless as he appeared to be.

_Although he never found it in himself to reciprocate my feelings..._

Fortunately, Elincia had gotten over _that_ particular disappointment years ago, or else there would have been another reason for her to feel diminished in Ike's presence. Had she not exorcised those feelings, she would once again be reduced to an inexperienced young woman who had yet to learn that sometimes, friendship and loyalty were just that, and nothing more.

"Greetings, Sir Ike," she said after bringing her horse to a halt in front of the young mercenary leader. Technically, that form of address was inappropriate, seeing as he had renounced his peerage, but she still held enormous respect for him, and since he summarily rejected 'Lord Ike', 'Sir' it was.

"Hello Elincia," he said, and, with his casual gallantry that she had once mistaken for something else, extended his arm to help her off her horse. Her hand almost reached out on its own volition to take his, but she restrained herself just in time. Surely, this 'warrior queen' could dismount without help. In fact, she decided not to dismount at all, and several awkward seconds passed until Ike shrugged and withdrew his hand.

"We came to assist you against the rebel army," he said, his voice a bit deeper since the last time they had met, many months ago. "But we chanced upon a small group of Felirae regulars who were guarding their main army's rear. We had to take the time to flush them out of the forest." He pointed at the black-clad youth on his right. "Soren insisted."

"If we had not dealt with them, they could have attacked us from behind," the young tactician said calmly. Unlike Ike, he did not seem to have changed at all since Elincia had last seen him, although he was at an age where he should still be growing. His cool and downright contemptuous demeanor remained unchanged, too. "But if I should venture a guess, it seems like Queen Elincia has been victorious without us, or she would not have the time to spare to meet us here. Unless I am mistaken, and she is fleeing from her enemies into our arms once again."

"Soren!" Titania hissed. "That's uncalled for!"

"It's all right," Elincia said. "It's just Soren being Soren. And to assuage your fears: No, I am not fleeing. The rebels at Fort Alpea have been utterly defeated, and the traitor Ludveck is dead."

"See? I told you she'd be fine without us!" Mist told Soren, who accepted his rebuke without comment. "I'm so relieved! Are Lucia and the others all right?"

"The battle... was not without losses," Elincia said while trying to maintain her composure. Why in the world did Mist have to ask for Lucia, of all people? "But we saw it through somehow." Mist's and Titania's expression darkened as she said that, and even Ike raised a questioning eyebrow, which told Elincia that she had been unable to hide the sorrow in her voice.

_Not that accursed pity again! This isn't going like it should!_

"At any rate, why did you appear here all of a sudden?" she asked, giving them no time to inquire further about the nature of the 'losses'. "You vanished off the face of Tellius for months!" Was her tone accusing? Probably. It could not be helped.

"Actually, we acted according to a plan hatched by Bastian," Ike said.

"Bastian?" Elincia made no attempt to hide her surprise. "He's supposed to be in Daein! What does he have to do with this?"

"The count of Fayre knew about Ludveck's plotting before he left for Daein," Ike explained. "Bastian guessed that if he left the country, the rebels would feel confident enough to make their move."

"You... you mean he knew this would happen? _You_ knew?" Elincia was staring open-mouthed now, but she did not care.

"Sorry that we had to stay hidden, but for a ruse like that to work, you have to deceive allies as well as enemies." Ike grimaced. "Although we barely got to do anything in the end."

"You mean none of this would have ever happened if you and Bastian had not hidden yourselves?"

"Well, at least not in the exact same manner," Ike said. "But who can say for certain?"

"You make it sound like we were the ones who initiated the rebellion," Soren said testily. Paranoid as ever, he had probably sensed an accusatory undertone in Elincia's words, and rightly so.

"This was all the result of Bastian's scheming..." She found it hard to believe, but Ike and his companions had no reason to lie to her. She felt like a cold hand was constricting around her throat.

"Is something wrong, Elincia?" Mist asked, her voice heavy with honest concern.

_Something like this would have happened anyway! _the voice of reason told Elincia. _Ludveck simply would have waited a bit longer, until Bastian left on some other mission and Ike's men were busy elsewhere! Their plan was supposed to make him play his hand too early, so that he could be defeated more easily._

_And yet they deceived me, and as a result, Lucia is dead. Can I ever forgive them for this?_

"Elincia?" Ike, too, was looking visibly concerned now. "What's the matter?"

"It's... not a problem of yours," Elincia said slowly. She was determined not to tell them about Lucia's fate: Doing so would only invite more of their futile pity.

"If Bastian contracted you, then it's all right," she said. "You're mercenaries, after all." No sense in putting the blame on them, right? They had simply done what Bastian had told them to do.

_He'll have a lot of explaining to do when he returns from Daein._

"Uh, right," Ike said in a rare onset of awkwardness. "So since we're being paid anyway, is there anything you need us to do?"

"As I told you, we have been victorious," Elincia informed him. "With Ludveck dead, his followers are unlikely to persist in their rebellion. And if they do, I'll have Geoffrey and his knights crush them. I have no need for your help." She seized the reins of her horse. "Thank you for coming this far, though."

Feeling no gratitude at all, Elincia brought the horse about and steered it back towards Fort Alpea without another word, and Kieran and his men followed her. The Greil Mercenaries were left behind, presumably wondering what exactly was wrong with the queen, but Elincia did not care about that. There was only one thing on her mind: Not only had Lucia died for nothing, her death could also have easily been avoided if only Bastian had not taken matters into his own hands.

_If only I had never learned about all this..._

On their short journey back, Elincia again made every effort not to be overtaken by Kieran or any of his men, lest they should see the tears welling up in her eyes.


	3. Ambivalent Departure

_AN: I just wanted to say a quick "Thank you" to everybody who has reviewed this story so far. I'm glad you enjoyed the first two chapters, and I hope your enjoyment lasts through the many terrible things the future has in store for poor Elincia..._

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**Chapter 3: Ambivalent Departure**

Elincia was standing in one of Fort Alpea's storage rooms, where Lucia's body had been laid out on a simple wooden table. Her face had been washed and her dirt-stained clothes replaced, and she looked very much as if she was merely sleeping. The only visible change from when she had last seen her up close was her hair: Once long and flowing, it had been cut by Ludveck's henchmen, and the hair sent to Elincia as a gesture of intimidation.

_It was the least thing they took from her_, the Queen of Crimea thought bitterly.

In the almost two days since Geoffrey's departure for Melior, sent to assess whether it was safe for the queen to return, Elincia had avoided this room. She was afraid that merely seeing Lucia might throw her into a spiral of grief and despair she could ill afford at this juncture, and instead had spent much time talking to captured rebel soldiers. She had told each of them that whether they liked it or not, she was their rightful queen, and that she would not relinquish that position to anybody, no matter the threats. Not one had dared to gainsay her, most of them torn between residual resentment and newly-found, though grudging, respect for her steadfastness.

One Felirae soldier had been particularly nervous, though, sweating large beads while evading her gaze. Elincia had recognized his voice as that of the man who had ordered Lucia's execution. She had grown angry then, and the man had visibly feared for his life, but she had reminded herself that Ludveck had been the true guilty party. None of her followers would have batted an eyelid if she had sent this man to join his former liege on the gallows, but on closer inspection, she had found the bald and slightly stocky soldier a rather pitiful sight, trembling and sweating in front of her, and had dismissed him with a condescending wave of her hand without uttering a single word. He had muttered something about gratitude and mercy and fled the room with surprising swiftness. After that encounter, Elincia had put the remaining meetings on hold and finally visited Lucia's temporary resting place.

"Did I do the right thing, letting him go?" she asked and looked expectantly at Lucia. "Would you have wanted me to spare him?"

Naturally, no answer came, and Elincia choked up. She might have burst out into tears if not for the sound of someone knocking on the door.

"Come in," she said and turned around to face the arrival. A quick brush with her hand told her that her face was still dry. _Good._

The armored man who entered was tall and with a confident gait, his expression somewhere between fulfilled longing and dutiful devotion.

"Geoffrey!" Elincia exclaimed and made a step toward him. "I'm glad to see you back. What's the situation in the capital?"

"We found no rebel forces when we arrived in Melior, Your Majesty." Geoffrey walked toward Elincia and stopped two paces in front of her – closer than most of her other servants came, but that was fine with her. His gaze fell on his sister's body behind Elincia, and his features darkened for an instant before he returned his attention to his queen. "Apparently, Ludveck intended to concentrate all his might on Fort Alpea, to take your crown before he moved to the capital. It is safe for you to return, Elincia."

"What about the nobles?"

"Most of them remained passive, waiting for the outcome of the civil war. They riddled me with questions, of course. The mere arrival of me and my knights made them... nervous, to say the least."

Elincia slowly nodded, for Geoffrey's words only confirmed their expectations. She thought very little of most of the aristocrats that surrounded her in the palace – always nagging, always trying to undermine her authority, yet never with any constructive proposals at hand. But they were still a powerful group, and depending on who they threw in their lot with, could greatly influence the policy of the sitting monarch.

"Many of them were rooting for Ludveck to win, no doubt," she said. "To get rid of their weakling of a queen."

"Elincia!" Geoffrey protested. "You mustn't think of yourself like that!"

"I am not." She raised her hands in placation. "At least not anymore. I'm just saying that this is how the nobles see me." _We must never let our feelings get in the way of perceiving reality._

"That may be true," Geoffrey said stiffly. "Anyway, I did exactly as we plotted: I told the nobles in secret that you were negotiating with Ludveck about handing over the throne, and asked who they were standing with."

Elincia nodded: So much their plan. "What was their reaction?"

"Count Arning and Duke Falnir declared open support for Ludveck." A sly smile came over Geoffrey's lips. "I had them thrown into the dungeon for treason, as per our plan. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it."

"We can't assume that they were the only ones favoring Ludveck," Elincia said. "Just the only ones foolish enough to fall for our ruse."

"Still, that takes care of several sources of trouble," Geoffrey said. "Your plan worked. A ruse worthy of our friend Bastian, if I may say so."

"Bastian..." Elincia stared off into space. She had done her best not to think about him since Ike's revelation about his plan that had so terribly gone awry... but surely, she had to tell Geoffrey!

_Later. Now, we have to get on our way._

"I had Kieran prepare the troops for our return to Melior," she said. "We will return once you've rested for a bit."

"I am rested," Geoffrey said immediately, even though he had made the journey to the capital and back so fast that he could not possibly have slept at all. "For you, Elincia, I would ride to the ends of Tellius and back. Three times in a row. While sleeping in the saddle!"

There was just enough humor in Geoffrey's usually solemn tone that Elincia had to giggle. She turned around reflexively to hide it and her eyes fell on Lucia's body once more. The giggle froze in her throat, and she teared up.

"Elincia." She felt one of Geoffrey's gauntlet-wearing hand's clasp hers; heavy and cold, yet strangely comforting. "You need never turn away from me. You know that."

_He's right, _Elincia thought and turned around. _He's my dear friend, and though I may lose him one day as I lost Lucia, that doesn't mean I should distance myself from him._

She put her other hand on his and said: "This isn't very appropriate, you know? The queen is supposed to be untouchable."

"I... I'm sorry," Geoffrey said, suddenly flustered. "I assume too much because we're friends." He tried to withdraw his hand, but Elincia did not let go, which resulted in his gauntlet coming loose. Elincia set it down on the ground and clutched Geoffrey's actual hand.

"Don't be a fool," she said. "I was just teasing you."

"You are a cruel mistress," Geoffrey sighed while reciprocating her clasp. Elincia giggled again, and again she froze, turning her head over her shoulder toward Lucia. Lucia, who would never feel the warmth of anybody's touch ever again. She felt like mocking her, especially considering that she had been the one to let her die.

"Please don't torture yourself, Elincia," Geoffrey said after noticing her reaction. "I don't think my sister would want you to be miserable."

"Yes, you're right," she muttered, lowering her head.

"Don't say it so weakly!" Geoffrey put his left hand on her shoulder. "Raise your head high! Be a strong queen! The queen that Lucia gladly gave her life for!" His voice was suddenly demanding, almost abrasive. He had never taken that tone with her before.

_The only way he can cope with Lucia's death is if it strengthens me_, Elincia realized all of a sudden. _Only then has her death at least some meaning. _But how was she supposed to derive strength from a senseless loss?

_It wasn't senseless! She accepted her death so that I could continue as queen! So that I could continue to serve Crimea! She believed in me, and I'll be damned if I fail her!_

"You're right," Elincia said again, more forcefully this time. "You're right!" Now she was almost shouting, and raised her head, meeting Geoffrey's gaze. "Lucia died for a strong queen, not one who sits in a dark room bemoaning things that can't be undone. I'll show her and you and everybody else just how strong I can be! I'm through with grief and regret!" She knew she was talking big, but she had every intention to follow through with her words.

"Thus speaks a true queen," Geoffrey said with pride and knelt down before her, still holding her hands in his right. "I hereby renew my pledge of loyalty to you, Queen Elincia. I will stand by you for as long as I draw breath... and as long as you will have me."

"Oh, Geoffrey," Elincia said and felt a welling in her eyes. "There is no need for this. And of course I'll always have you. Please rise."

Geoffrey rose.

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

_I must not become dependent on him_, Elincia told herself, and not for the first time. _He, too, may be taken away from me one day. But until that day comes, I will draw as much strength from him as I can, and allow him to draw strength from me in turn._

The two of them stood there silently for a few moments, looking at each other, then Elincia cleared her throat and finally let go of Geoffrey's hand. "If you're ready to move out, then we will leave at once. We don't want to deprive the remaining nobles of their queen's presence for much longer, do we?"

"Absolutely not," Geoffrey said with a complete sincerity that was only belied by a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Lead the way, Elincia."

Elincia nodded firmly and walked past Geoffrey out of the room, forcing herself not to look back at the body of her dead friend.

"Lucia's body will be transferred to Melior at a later date," she said when her knight caught up to her. "She'll be given a burial befitting a hero who died for Crimea." Another thought came to her. "Also, I will posthumously grant her the title of duchess. The nobles always hated Lucia because of our friendship – let them swallow this one!" Geoffrey raised an eyebrow as they turned a corner, but did not disapprove. "Felirae will be placed under direct royal administration," she continued, "until a suitable successor is found – an honorable and steadfast man worthy of being entrusted with the rule of an entire duchy."

"You sound as if you already have someone in mind," Geoffrey said. He seemed to have no inkling of what was to follow.

"Oh, indeed," Elincia said while suppressing a smile. Did he really not suspect or was he masking it? "In fact, I was thinking about you." Her words made the Commander of the Royal Knights miss a step and almost fall over, prompting her to support him. So stupefied was he that he held on to her for several seconds, and only straightened himself when two servants walked past them, eyeing the queen and her knight with indiscrete looks.

"I am the Commander of the Royal Knights," he finally said. He sounded flustered again and was pressing his palms against each other, which made Elincia grin. "My duty requires me to stay in Melior at all times... unless you wish to replace me with–"

"Geoffrey!" Elincia gave him her deepest scowl. "I told you I'd always have you, didn't I?"

"You did." He took a deep breath and met her gaze again. "I am sorry."

"Actually," she continued without giving him another chance to protest, "you should know that it is customary for the leader of the Royal Knights to hold the rank of duke. For example, my uncle Renning was also the Duke of Albore."

"Duke Renning was twice the man I am," Geoffrey said with the same sense of awe that always overcame him when somebody mentioned his teacher and mentor. "I wouldn't be surprised if you told me now that he could be in two places at once, to perform both of his duties admirably."

"Oh, it wasn't quite so supernatural," Elincia said as fond memories of her uncle passed through her mind. "He simply appointed a trusted proxy to look after his territory in his absence. You could do the same." She started walking again, passing into the fort's courtyard on their way to the front gate. "Come on, let's keep going."

Geoffrey hurried to catch up to his queen, his body tense and overly stiff, and twisted his thumbs in a manner that Elincia thought must be rather painful.

"I would be honored to accept–" he began.

"Splendid!"

"But," he objected, "it's just that the nobles may consider it favoritism..."

"It _is_ favoritism," Elincia said and underscored her words with a resolute gesture. "Or should the queen not favor those who serve her well and truly."

"Well and... truly. Yes, indeed." Geoffrey gave a little cough. "But will my appointment meet with the nobles' confirmation?"

"It is my right as the queen to propose a candidate – a candidate who has distinguished himself in putting down this accursed rebellion. And then there's the aforementioned tradition of giving a dukedom to the leader of the Royal Knights. So yes, they will definitely confirm you," Elincia assured Geoffrey. "If they know what's good for them," she added with a low growl that made him raise both eyebrows. "How scary," he whispered to himself, which made Elincia chuckle. "That's what you asked for, isn't it? A strong queen."

"You are an inspiration, Your Majesty," Geoffrey said solemnly. Then, more light-hearted: "That means I would outrank dear Count Bastian! Ha! Let him come up with an eloquent response to that!"

"I'm sure he'd come up with something," Elincia said flatly, recalling her loquacious friend's fateful – and unauthorized – gamble with deep regret. In response, Geoffrey frowned and lowered his head to the side, giving his queen an inquisitive look.

"Is something the matter? You had that same stare when I mentioned Bastian before."

"Ah... well..." _'It's nothing,' I'd like to say. But it's definitely NOT nothing, and I don't want to lie to Geoffrey. But this is neither the time nor place..._

Fortunately for Elincia, the two just now reached Fort Alpea's front gate, and before Geoffrey could inquire further, they had passed through the wide-open gate. The Crimean Royal Knights and regulars who had so valiantly defended the fort two days prior were waiting outside in marching formation, ready to move out on Elincia's command. The queen's gaze, however, was caught by something else entirely, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Why is _this_ still here?" Elincia asked with dismay, without further elaborating whether _this_ referred to the makeshift gallows right outside the fort or the white-armored body lying on the wooden platform.

"I don't know," Geoffrey said. "I asked myself the same question when I returned just now." He shrugged. "Didn't you give any instructions?"

"Actually no, I didn't," Elincia said. "I didn't even leave the fort for the last two days." In fact, she had slept through most of the first day after the battle; so she been from fighting Ludveck's forces tooth and nail for hours on end, with victory and defeat hanging in a precarious balance most of the time.

"Then I suppose, since you left no specific orders, nobody felt the need to clean up this refuse." Had he been talking about any other person, Elincia would have chastised Geoffrey for calling him 'refuse', but with Ludveck, she was quite willing to make an exception. "And they probably didn't want to disturb you by asking for instructions."

"Hmpf. Do my people think me so easily distraught?" Elincia sighed and shook her head at her own pretensions of callousness. "In truth, I _was_ distraught. Oh well, let's take a look at him."

"Your Majesty?" Geoffrey asked in surprise, but followed his queen when she strode toward the gallows. Elincia had realized that she had not seen Ludveck after their final short conversation in the fort's dungeon, at least not from up close. It was not the desire to gloat – how could you gloat over a dead man, anyway? – but for some reason, she felt she had to see the corpse of the man who had taken Lucia from her; perhaps to better come to terms with her death. She felt the watchful eyes of thousands of men on her as she walked, but payed them no heed – she was not going to make a show, merely taking a quick look.

When they reached the gallows, the late Duke of Felirae was lying face-first on the wooden pedestal. Without being prompted, Geoffrey stepped forward, seized his shoulders and turned the corpse around. His formerly handsome face was contorted to a grimace of fear and horror, his eyes were bulging out and there were deep, red marks where the noose had cut into the flesh of his neck.

"Well," Elincia nodded to herself, "it definitely is him."

"Did you think I had hanged the wrong man?" Geoffrey asked with a scowl. For some reason, he was not looking at Ludveck but simply stared into the distance past Elincia's head; perhaps because he wished to grant her this undivided moment of triumph.

_But it's not triumph. Satisfaction, yes. But triumph... no. I'd rather have both him and Lucia still alive than both of them dead._

But she could not have forfeited rule of Crimea to this man, not in a thousand years, not for any price, including Lucia's life. He had sacrificed countless innocents to satiate his own ambition, while at the same time making grandiose speeches about how he was doing it all for Crimea's sake. Elincia held nothing but disgust for this man, and had not an ounce of sympathy for him.

"There is no need to make a large scene," she said. "No displaying the corpse or such barbaric nonsense." She hesitated for a second; she was of a mind to simply leave it there to rot – but she had not grown _that_ callous. "Geoffrey, call two men."

Seconds later, two spearmen joined the queen and her knight under the gallows, and Elincia ordered them to carry the body inside the fort, to be buried in the mass grave among with his fallen soldiers. She thought it was only fitting that in death, he should join those whom he had led to ruin.

"See to it that the body isn't defiled," she cautioned them when she noticed the hateful glances directed at the corpse. "We are better than that."

"Yes, Your Highness." There was little enthusiasm in the man's voice.

"Can we at least take off his armor?" the other asked. "It's heavy."

"Yes, of course." She nodded. "Maybe it can be re-used."

Ludveck's gold-rimmed white armor (which struck Elincia as a particularly egregious example of form over function) had only been dented in several spots, but not pierced; the Duke of Felirae had surrendered in time to save himself – or, in hindsight, buy himself a very short reprieve. She tried to recall the final moments of the battle, when she and a few others had surrounded Ludveck and showered him with blows, but she found that her memory was hazy. During battle, Elincia used every bit of her concentration to stay alive and aware of her surroundings, but afterwards, she often drew a blank when trying to remember the details. Perhaps it was her way to cope with the horrors that were commonplace on the battlefield.

_I remember Geoffrey being there_, she thought as she forced some details to the surface, _always watching over me. And Sir Haar, with his black wyvern. I hope somebody gave him his payment. Then there was Brom, always looking so unhappy during battle. Oh, and Nephenee – that woman is a terror when she gets angry._

_I should thank every one of them individually. I owe so many things to so many brave men and women – I could spend a lifetime doing nothing but thanking them all, and it would be a life well spent._

The soldiers had finished stripping Ludveck's corpse of its armor and dragged it by the legs toward Fort Alpea, treating the Duke's remains with no more respect than a dead piece of cattle. Elincia did not object – she had told them not to defile the body, but had mentioned nothing about treating it particularly well – and followed them with her eyes as they made their way toward the fort's main gate. Before they had covered even half the distance, one of the waiting soldiers loudly cursed Ludveck's name, and others soon joined in. Within moments, loud chants arose from all over the assembled host, wishing the traitorous Duke, in so many words, good riddance.

"Shall I tell them to be silent?" Geoffrey asked. He did not sound like he wanted to silence them, but he asked for Elincia's sake.

"That man was the worst thing to happen to Crimea since Ashnard," she said calmly. "I see nothing wrong with giving him a proper send-off."

"I agree," Geoffrey said, although he himself remained silent, no doubt loath to sully the dignity of his station by hurling obscenities at a corpse. The angry chants continued for a while even after the two men dragging the body vanished inside the fort, and subsided only when Elincia raised her hand to call for silence.

"Brave soldiers of Crimea, hear me!" she called out, raising her voice as loud as she could. "I, Elincia, remain your queen, now and in the future."

Cheers interrupted her. She allowed them to abate.

"But if not for your dedication, your courage and your perseverance, I would be queen no more. You have fought and bled for me. Some of your comrades have died for me. For this, mere words of thanks will not suffice, but I say them nonetheless: Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart."

During the second chorus of cheers, Elincia looked at Geoffrey from the corner of her eyes, watching her intently. She knew that his admiration for her was deepest during moments like this: When she was Queen with ever fiber of her being. She graced him with a smile before she continued.

"But I am not blameless for this calamity. Had I but reigned in Ludveck earlier, many of our comrades would still be here with us. For that, I can only ask for your forgiveness."

Now there was a scowl on Geoffrey's face – he hated it when Elincia critized herself so harshly. A low murmur arose among the soldiers, and she hoped that this meant her apology had been accepted.

"And I must also beg forgiveness on behalf of others – those of your countrymen who heeded Ludveck's call, and who are yet imprisoned behind these walls. It's not an easy thing to ask, but I must do it nonetheless, or else the wounds Ludveck struck will never be mended. Please find it in yourself to forgive them, for the sake of our country's future."

Again, there was not much of a reaction, only a murmur even lower than that from before. Did it mean agreement or disagreement? That was the problem with addressing so many people, Elincia thought: You could only truly read their strong reactions – loud cheers or strong maledictions. Everything in between was difficult to measure.

"Ludveck's rebellion ended with his death," she continued, and her throat was already strained from the need to keep her voice raised. "Now we can put it to the pages of history, as a short, but bloody chapter that is now closed. And I will do everything in my power, spend every waking hour of my life, to make sure that it never repeats itself – that none of us will ever have to face the loss of a dear friend or comrade again." Her voice only trembled slightly when she said that, and the image of Lucia only flashed by her eyes for an instant. "May Ashera watch over all of us."

"Long live the queen!" a voice called out from among the Royal Knights the instant she had finished. "Long live Queen Elincia!"

"Long live the queen!"

"Long live Queen Elincia!"

The chanting continued for a few minutes, and Elincia accepted them with her eyes closed. She only prayed that the words were genuine, that the men were not merely cheering on her because they felt obliged. She had decided, after her first speech before a large host, three years ago outside of Melior, that she would probably never get a definite answer to that question – she could not very well ask everyone whether they truly meant it. But most of the time, Elincia was inclined to think that they did mean it, and today was one of those times.

"A splendid speech, Your Highness," a heavily strained voice suddenly spoke next to her, and she opened her eyes. "As always." It was Kieran, astride on his horse, his eyes glinting with exaltation. He was leading Geoffrey's white steed along, as well as Atlas, Elincia's own aged, but treasured pegasus.

"Thank you, Commander," Geoffrey said and accepted the reigns of his horse, while Elincia greeted Atlas by petting his head. "Is everybody ready to depart?"

"Perfectly ready, General," Kieran answered. "Though perhaps a bit hoarse."

"Nothing a few hours of blissful silence can't cure." Geoffrey shook his head and sighed. "You're going to break your vocal chords one of these days."

"Ah, the sweetly agonizing rewards of knighthood," Kieran rasped without batting an eyelid.

"I truly hope for your sake that the candle that burns twice as fast doesn't always burn half as long," Geoffrey said and mounted his horse. "We're ready to leave at your command, Your Majesty."

Elincia nodded, vaulted on Atlas's back and seized his reins. Driven by a pang of melancholy, she turned around in the saddle and looked back at the massive walls of Fort Alpea. She remembered wistfully how she had deemed it a good idea to fight the rebels here instead of the capital, so that no innocent lives would be lost. And even after treachery and a battle that had been drawn out for far longer then she would have liked, the plan had worked out in the end. But in spite of that success, Elincia doubted that she would ever be able to think of Alpea as anything other than the place of Lucia's death. Unless urgent necessity forced her, she would probably never come here again.

"Let's leave this place behind us," she said, and Geoffrey took it as the order to depart. "Let's move out, men!" his voice echoed across the field. "Follow the queen!"

Elincia gently spurred Atlas forward and took the lead of the formation, flanked by Geoffrey on the right and Kieran on the left. Behind her arose the sounds of thousands of hoofbeats and armored boots treading on the grassy ground: Victorious soldiers following their rightful queen back to their capital in triumph.

_I leave a part of my soul in this place_, Elincia thought, _but the better part is still intact. I must continue to live and do my best. That is all._

Atlas snickered loudly, happy that he only had to walk instead of engaging in strenuous flight. Stroking his white mane, Elincia raised her head high and overlooked the long road before them.

"Let's go home."


	4. A Modest Proposal

_AN: The next two chapters will focus on characters other than Elincia, and what is going on in other parts of Tellius at the time of her departure from Fort Alpea. These events will tie in to the main story eventually._

_Also, and I'm probably being totally overcautious here, the second part of the chapter contains spoilers about Sephiran's character from the final mission of Radiant Dawn. On that note, other revelations from that game (such as the Black Knight's identity) will probably also be spoiled at a later time. You have been warned (that is, the three people unlucky enough not to have played RD yet)._

* * *

**Chapter 4: A Modest Proposal**

Two days after their belated encounter with Elincia, Ike and the Greil Mercenaries were approaching their old fort, in the hope that they would be able to get back to their old rhythm after the frustrating experience Bastian had put them through. They had been kept on standby for months, only to miss all the action when the rebellion had finally begun. Once the news spread that the Greil Mercenaries had returned, employment opportunities were bound to arise sooner or later.

Ike had sent out Oscar to scout ahead and determine whether the fort was safe for their return after having been deserted for many months. Like most of the time, he was walking at the vanguard of the formation, with Soren and Mist nearby, and was the first to spot the green-haired knight returning.

"The fort is empty, commander," Oscar reported, bringing his horse in line with the company's movement speed so the march did not have to stop. "There's no sign that anybody was there since our departure."

"Thank you, Oscar," Ike said, before remembering something. "Oh, Boyd asked to see you once you came back. He should be somewhere near the center." Oscar nodded, turned his horse around and made toward his brother.

"Well, well, that's a surprise," Soren said sardonically. The young mage and tactician was walking at Ike's right side, as he almost always did, though he was speaking to no one in particular right now. "I would have expected squatters to infest the walls."

"Soren!" Mist had been walking a small distance to Ike's left and directed most of her attention at the trees around her, but with her uncannily good hearing, she had picked up Soren's remark. "What do you mean 'infest'? You're impossible!" She was trying to intimidate Soren by making a scary face (or what went for a scary face with Mist), which amused Ike. Soren was not easily intimidated by anyone, let alone his commander's good-natured sister, who very rarely got truly angry at someone.

"Was something I said wrong?" Soren defended himself, talking to Mist without looking at her. "It's only a small fort, but its walls are thick, and its roofs watertight. A perfect place for vagrants and vagabonds to flock to." He sighed. "But it is just as well that nobody's there. You probably would have tried to stop me from chasing them out, and given them food and sympathy and whatnot."

"Of course I would have!" Ike, who was watching the exchange with mild amusement, saw a grin come over his sister's face. "But I bet that if my brother would have told you they could stay, you wouldn't have uttered a word of protest."

"I defer to Ike's judgement in all situations," Soren said simply.

"That's what I mean! You always agree with him!"

"Just listen to yourselves." Growing indignation on Soren's face told Ike that there was a need to defuse the situation. "You two are arguing how we should deal with people who aren't even there." He chose not to mention that if there actually _had_ been squatters, he probably would have allowed them to stay for a while, as long as they made themselves useful somehow. Even though he was Soren's best (and only) friend, Ike, too, had to admit that he was being overly abrasive some times.

_Well, most of the time. Actually, all of the time._

"It never hurts to plan for contingencies," Soren said, taking his commander's censure without blinking. Mist threw her hands into the air and looked upward.

"Contingencies!" She let out a nasty little laugh that Ike had never heard before. "You can come up with battle plans against entire armies on the spot, but you need contingencies to deal with a homeless mother and her two children?"

"Ah, details about these people who aren't even there," Soren mocked. "Do tell more."

"See?" Mist asked, and laughed again. "Now you're just repeating Ike's joke from before. You're just hanging on his skirt all the time."

Mist's words not only made Soren blush – a rare reaction indeed – they also made Ike stumble and almost fall over, forcing him to make a silly little jump to regain his balance.

"My... skirt?" he asked, staring incredulously at Mist. What exactly was that girl talking about? But before she could answer, Soren turned around, said "This is ridiculous!" and stomped off toward the back of the company that was still moving toward their fort.

"Yes, it is," Ike agreed, unsure whether his tactician was truly offended or just embarrassed. "I've never worn a skirt!" _Was there really a need to point that out?_

"Perhaps you should try it some day," Mist suggested innocently. "I can lend you one of mine. I'm sure Soren would like it."

_Now what exactly is that supposed to–_

"What's this thing about skirts?" Ike's deputy commander and the group's oldest member, Titania, suddenly appeared next to him, having come up from behind. "And why is Soren stomping off looking sour?"

"What, you could tell the difference?" Mist asked.

"You're being pretty testy today, Mist, you know that?" Ike's preferred method for solving problems was confronting them in the open, and that was what he did now. "I mean, Soren isn't acting any different from his usual self, as far as I can tell."

"Puh, you're wrong," Mist said and raised her nose. "I'm not testy. I'm balance itself!" Ike rolled his eyes at this boastful reference to her ability to touch Lehran's Medaillon without going insane.

"Actually, I've noticed that you're not quite-so-balanced lately," Titania interjected. "You're upset about something, aren't you? You've been like that for a while..."

Mist had indeed been easily irritated for the last few days, Ike agreed in his mind, particularly when compared to her usual, tranquil self.

"Yes, now that you mention it..." he frowned and thought about when the change had become noticeable. "I think it began after we meet Queen Elincia a few days back."

"Hmpf," Mist pouted. "I guess it must be really obvious if even Ike noticed it, given that he has the emotional depth of a log."

"Excuse me?" Ike asked. Titania's giggle only added insult to injury.

_I'm treating them all way too nice. I should be a more authoritarian commander._

"I am not a log," he said and stressed every word.

"You're right," Mist jeered, "your arms are much thicker."

_Not THAT again!_

"Yes, how dare I try to stay in good fighting shape?" Ike asked. He did not usually do sarcasm, but he felt like making an exception right now.

"There's good fighting shape, and then there's... _this_," Mist said and pointed at Ike's massive arm muscles. Well, others called them massive; Ike thought they were just fine. Perfectly normal. Fine, really.

_It's not like I'm running around criticizing the size of your... well, whatever._

"You're just trying to distract us," he simply said. "What happened when we met Elincia?"

"Why are you even asking me? You were there, log!"

Ike did not appreciate being made fun of. "Be warned, Mist," he growled, with a tone that he usually used to intimidate enemy generals, "I may have to start beating you one of these days."

"That would be a first, since Greil never beat either of you," Titania said without being asked. "But I think I know what Mist is talking about. Elincia was acting really strange and discourteous. Not like herself at all."

"Well, she just had to put down a rebellion against her own countrymen," Ike pointed out. "That can't have been pleasant for her – especially her."

"It's a pity we arrived too late." Titania stopped suddenly, then resumed walking before somebody could bump into her from behind. "Do you think she lost someone dear to her in that fight?" she asked.

"Elincia would take the loss of every single Crimean to heart," Ike said. He vividly recalled an encounter with Elincia after her first battle during the Mad King's War, where she had failed to save a soldier from a wound that not even staves could heal. Even though Rhys and Ike and everybody else had assured her that there was nothing she could have done, she had still burst out into tears, and then promptly rushed into the growing darkness of the evening to hide her shame. "That's how she is," he said, and added in his mind: _And that's why she's a good queen._

"Maybe that's true, but she can also have strong feelings toward individual people!" Mist insisted. "Not that _he'd_ ever notice," she whispered with a side glance to Titania, but loud enough for Ike to hear. He wondered what she meant by this...

"I remember you asking her about Lucia," Titania said to Mist, "but she didn't say anything. It couldn't be...?"

"Oh, no!" Mist cried out and stopped walking for an instant. "That would be so horrible for her! The two of them were like sisters!"

"Where there's fighting, there are casualties," Ike said. He knew that only too well, having led his company for three years now, and bearing partial responsibility for all the losses during that time. "Elincia is well aware of that. Even if she has suffered a personal loss, she'll cope." _She dealt with the deaths of her father, mother and uncle in a very short time, back then. They really don't understand how tough she is on the inside... at least once the tears have dried up._

"That does it, Ike!" Mist said and thrust her clenched fist toward her brother. She was not throwing a real punch, merely trying to express her displeasure with him, but Ike would have none of it: He caught her fist with his hands and gently pushed her backwards. Not that he would ever have hurt her, but his combat reflexes alone would allow nothing less. Mist struggled against him even as both of them walked forward and made strange noises.

"Argh! 'She'll get over it?' How can you be so heartless! I swear Soren's rubbing off on you!"

"Soren isn't rubbing anything on me," Ike said with irritation. _Why did that just sound strange? _"Anyway, Elincia is strong. Probably stronger than we all think."

"Yes, but I'm afraid it'll just harden her heart and make her close up against the world." Mist made an unhappy face. "That mustn't happen to her!"

"She's no longer a secret princess who can act according to her feelings," Ike explained. "She's the queen now."

"Yes, I've noticed that, can you imagine," Mist said snippily. "I think it was three years ago, during her coronation!"

"Still testy..."

"Oh, you!"

"Stop arguing, you two," Titania intervened. "We're home."

"Ah," Ike said stupidly and looked up ahead. There it was, the fort where he had spent most of his years as a young man and become a true member of the Greil Mercenaries. Back then, it had been his father's company, but now, it was his. But just as Titania had said, it was still his home.

"Come on, let's go inside," Titania said. "Soren is going to take care of the accomodations. He always works harder when he's in a bad mood."

"Very well," Ike said. In truth, he was still relying on Soren and Titania to run most of the logistics and organizational parts of the Greil Mercenaries, and he doubted that would ever really change. He was the commander, and he commanded, preferably (no, always) from the front lines. It was a division of tasks that he had grown quite comfortable with.

"Wow, how long has it been since we were here?" Mist leapt happily through the courtyard, her previous gloom dissipated, at least for the moment. "It sure feels great to be home." Ike could only agree.

"Yeah, we've been away for too long. Bastian's strange mission took longer than it should have. And we didn't even get to do anything in the end."

"Yes, what a pity," Mist said. "I, too, regret not getting to stab anybody."

"What, you're having problems with mercenary work now, after three years?" _Besides, I slash more than I stab!_

"I'm just saying you could be a little less enthusiastic about it," Mist said in a pouting tone.

"You two are truly insufferable today." Instead of following Ike toward the main building, Titania threw her hands into the air and turned around on the spot. "I'm going to visit Greil."

"Wait, I'm coming with you!" Mist cried and followed the red-haired knight. "We can pick flowers on the way!" She joined Titania, and the two wormed their way through the courtyard that was quickly filling up with returning mercenaries. "I bet the grave is a mess with no one tending to it for so long!" She turned her head and called out to Ike: "I'll say hello for you too, since you never visit anyway." With that, she and Titania vanished among the crowd, while Ike shook his head and made toward the main building.

"It's just a grave," he muttered to himself. He and Mist had fought about this topic before, but he still did not see the need to visit his father's resting place again. Mist regularly called him heartless for it, but he could live with that.

Father's dead. I'm over it, and Mist too, mostly. So what's the point in visiting?

Ike entered the main hall where the mercenaries dined together, and looked around. The tables were covered with dust, with no sign of recent use or inhabitation. Oscar had not been mistaken.

_Well of course he hasn't. He's one of our most reliable members._

Ike heard light footsteps behind him and turned around. It was Soren.

"Ike, a visitor to see you." There was somebody else entering the building now, behind Soren.

"A visitor? Who is it?" Ike narrowed his eyes – and recognized the figure walking through the sunlit door frame.

_I would recognize that tail anywhere._

"Long time no see, Ike," Ranulf said and walked past Soren toward him. "I've been looking all over Crimea for you. You're never home!"

"Ranulf! How are you, my old friend?" Ike extended his hand in the customary beorc greeting, and Ranulf shook it. "How's everyone in Gallia?" Even though he did not remember the time he had spent there during his childhood, he still thought fondly about what Shinon had once called 'Beast Country'. "Is Caineghis well?" he added, although he could not imagine the imposing Lion King falling sick.

"Everyone's doing great," Ranulf replied. "We laguz don't take ill too easily, so it's hard not to be 'well.'" Then the casual expression on his face gave way to a serious one, and he bend forward, looking intently at Ike.

"But I'm afraid I didn't come here to have a friendly chat. I have some bad news. War has come to us once again."

* * *

It was on the second day of Sephiran's imprisonment that the visitor came. He was preceded by two red-armored prison guards who made sure that the Prime Minister was not hiding in a corner next to the door with an empty water jug, ready to smash it on the visitor's head. That was probably every prisoner's pipe dream, but Sephiran had not been a prisoner for long enough to succumb to such delusions. He merely rose on his pallet and straightened himself, ready to greet the visitor, be he liberator, hangman or a new cell mate.

When the man entered the cell, holding his head down so as not to hit his head on the low beam, Sephiran saw that he was none of the above, although he thought that he would almost have preferred a hangman to this unexpected and most certainly unwanted visitor.

"One of the few pleasantries of my confinement was not having to see your face day after day," he said with an hostility that others would have considered unusual for him. "So, are you here to take even this small joy away from me, Vice-Minister?"

"Oh no, my time is far too precious for that," Lekain said in a pleasant tone, ignoring Sephiran's harsh words. "After all, the burden of governing the Empire falls wholly on my shoulders, now that you are temporarily... unavailable." He waved the two soldiers out of the room, which surprised Sephiran at first. Then he realized that they would still be waiting outside, and without a tome or even an improvised weapon, there was no way for him to overwhelm the heavyset Lekain.

"Temporarily?" he asked instead and raised an eyebrow. "Come on, now, Vice-Minister. You have no intention of ever letting me out of here. The instant I breathed the air of freedom again, I would inform the people of your treason against the apostle."

"The _apostle_!" Lekain chuckled, his hands folded over his considerable, though not excessive, girth. "How precious! Both of us know that your adorable Sanaki is nothing but a fraud."

"Don't you speak that way about her!" Sephiran hissed and almost rose from his pallet. _No sense in trying to intimidate him_, he thought as he restrained himself. _He's not very easily impressed. _"She is of Altina's line, and Misaha's only surviving grandchild! Moreover, she cares for the people with all her heart, which is more than you could ever say, Lekain!"

"My, how forceful." Lekain frowned at Sephiran like at a petulant child. "It seems your short time in this cell has already irritated you beyond your control. Or perhaps the willfulness of your fraudulent charge has finally rubbed off on you?"

_Don't call her a fraud! _Sephiran wanted to say again, but knew better than that. There was no use arguing with Lekain – that man reveled in adversity.

"As for my heart: It is very busy regulating the blood flow in my esteemed body. I'm afraid if I began to... care for the people with all my heart, as you put it... this precious organ of mine would be overtaxed. And as the steward of Begnion, I must keep myself in good health, don't you agree?" But Sephiran did not grace the man with an answer and directed his contempt inward instead.

_People like him are why the world must be cleansed! Lekain and his fellow senators are corrupted beyond redemption._

Being as old as he was, Sephiran had seen many men like Lekain over the centuries: Men coveting power as others coveted the air, as a matter of course, never questioning their own sense of entitlement. Lekain might not even be the worst of the lot, but certainly the worst of his time. Even Mad King Ashnard had been an honest idealist, trying to change the world for the better (though in a very twisted way), but Lekain and his kind cared for nothing but themselves.

_I pray that when the Goddess renders her judgement, she will take their sins into special consideration..._

"You are so silent, dear Sephiran," Lekain said jovially. "Has your wellspring of hostility already run dry? No insults to hurl at me? After all, this may be the first time the two of can talk openly, without the need to keep appearances." He extended both of his arms. "By all means, curse my name and the day I was born!" He smirked. "Trust me, I can take it."

"I will not provide you with entertainment," Sephiran said coldly. "You would not have come into this dungeon if you did not want something from me," he added, unwilling to waste more time with foolishness. "So spit it out."

"Well, let's see..." Lekain furrowed his brows and pretended to think deeply. "Perhaps I came to keep you informed on the affairs of state? You should know that your dear protege, General Zelgius, is marching northward to face the sub-humans who are foolish enough to bring war to the Empire... following written orders of Prime Minister Sephiran, of course."

"So you're tricking him into fighting your little genocidal war," Sephiran said with utter contempt. "You know that he would never side with you if he knew that I am imprisoned here!"

"On the contrary," Lekain said. "While we are keeping your whereabouts secret from him for the time being, it wouldn't change anything even if he learned about your confinement. The threat of your death would certainly serve to keep him in line."

_Yes, that's probably true_, Sephiran thought. _Zelgius would obey any order given by a senator rather than endangering the life of his best and only friend. But even so, he is still is my best hope for getting out of this cell alive. If he learns about my imprisonment, he will think of something, I'm sure of it._

"Besides, even if Zelgius would turn against the rightful rulers of this country, there are always other generals to draw from the Empire's vast talent pool," Lekain said with a smile. "Which brings us to the true purpose of my visit: Talent."

"Talent," Sephiran repeated stupidly. Where was Lekain going with this?

"I'm talking about you, naturally!" the Vice-Minister exclaimed when Sephiran failed to take his cue. "Sephiran, my boy, you and your precious girl have been playacting for us senators for almost ten years now; and oh, how well you played! So well, in fact, that the senate in its infinite generosity is willing to forgive your foolish attempts at ... 'prosecuting' us. You will be permitted to continue playing your role, this time knowing that you play it."

"First of all, we were never your puppets to begin with," Sephiran insisted, but Lekain merely gave him a look that said 'Yes, tell yourself that if it makes you happy'.

"And we will never become your puppets, either," the former Prime Minister continued, paying no heed to Lekain's dismissive, pitiful smile. "Even if I wanted to play along, Sanaki would never accept it."

"Ah, too true," Lekain nodded. "She _is_ a foolhardy girl. But I'm sure I could find a girl that looks just like her in the many orphanages of Begnion, if only I searched hard enough... and none of the peasants could ever tell the difference, looking up to the balcony of the temple."

"You would choose a replacement for her?" Not for the first time, Lekain's sheer gall and boldness almost impressed Sephiran. What did he think the Holy Knights would say to that?

"We would just be exchanging one fake for another," Lekain said calmly. "You, on the other hand, would be able to continue your role as Prime Minister... while taking to heart the occasional 'suggestions' of the Senate."

"I'll never become a tool for you and your wretched band of slaveholders!" Sephiran cried out, his patience finally run out. "You are scum, and all of Tellius would be better off without you!"

"At last, the truth comes out," Lekain said, his face beaming. "What a departure from the polite and reserved Sephiran I know. Not that I can stand you either way, mind you."

"Then why make me this offer?"

"Ah, how preciously naive you still are, young Sephiran!"

_Young, eh? If you had any idea..._

"Personal feelings have no place in politics," Lekain explained with the casual wisdom of an elder statesman. "I have suffered you and the self-righteous apostle for almost a decade, and I'll gladly suffer you twice as many years as long as you play to my fiddle. After all, even the Senate needs fresh blood, and you're a smart lad, albeit misguided by your pesky morals." He made one step closer toward Sephiran, bent forward and whispered in a mock-conspiratory tone: "If you continue to be of use to us, you may one day wield real power."

"Get out of my sight," Sephiran said and turned his head to the side, unable to even look at the man's face.

"I did not expect enthusiasm... at least not initially," Lekain said. "You'll be given some time to think about my generous offer. But if you don't agree in the end, I guess we'll just have to kill you."

_That would be granting my greatest wish!_ Sephiran almost said aloud._ But it is not so easy. It would be selfish beyond belief to die and leave the world to men like Lekain. No, all beorc and laguz must be destroyed by the Goddess, for their own good! That is the only way to end all suffering!_

Sephiran's defiant gaze disappointed Lekain, who clearly had hoped for his threat to have an effect. "My, aren't you the fearless one," he jeered. "Would it change your mind if I told you that we will kill Sanaki, too, if you don't comply?"

"You wouldn't dare!" Sephiran snarled and turned again to face Lekain. The Vice-Minister merely smiled at him, and Sephiran knew that he would, in fact, dare.

_What a fool I am_, he chided himself._ Will Ashera's judgement not kill Sanaki, too? Am I any different from Lekain?_

_Yes, I am different! I want the whole world to end, not just Sanaki. It would be better for her, too – she is still a child, and she knows little of the misery that life has in store for her. It's the same for everybody, empress or peasant. Better for her to die after a childhood that held at least some happiness for her._

There was a part of Sephiran's scarred soul that thought otherwise; a part that wished for Sanaki to grow up and live to old age, happy or sad as fate dictated. But his affection for his young ward could not override the misery and anguish he had accumulated during the past eight hundred years. There had been moments when that part had been close to wrestle control of Sephiran's soul – when Sanaki had laughed happily upon seeing the usually graceful Prime Minister stumbling over the hem of his robe once. Or when he she had scowled at him after botching a short speech on the balcony of the temple, as if he had embarrassed her in public. Those were the times when he had almost abandoned his plans to wipe out all life on Tellius... almost.

_I will admit to it. I, too, plan to kill Sanaki, in a manner of speaking. But until that day comes, I will continue to stand by her and protect her! I will continue to play the role of Sephiran, just and fair Prime Minister of the Empire, and one of the few people Sanaki can rely on._

And because of that devotion, Sephiran knew that Lekain's threat to harm Sanaki could not be dismissed: He had to give the Vice-Minister something to appease him – stall for time until he got out of this cell.

"_If_ we can come to an arrangement that sees Sanaki unharmed, then... perhaps." Sephiran scowled and bit his lips, pretending to be internally conflicted (which he was, just not in that regard). Then shook his head and said: "I need time to think about this."

"Time is a scarcity, my dear boy," Lekain said in a lecturing tone. "But I would rather have your willing cooperation. So very well: Take a _reasonable_ amount of time." The Vice-Minister turned to leave. "Talk to the guards when you've made up your mind. Until then enjoy your stay." He knocked at the cell door until the soldiers outside opened it and left the cell without looking back. The guards threw the door shut behind him, and Sephiran was once again alone.

_Oh you hopeless fool_, he thought as he lay down on the pallet again, staring at the cob-webbed ceiling as he had done for most of the past two days._ No matter how much you try to keep him busy with your war against the laguz, Zelgius _will_ learn of my circumstances soon enough. Then he will get me out of here, and you will have a nice little rebellion on your hand, Vice-Minister._

Again, Sephiran was amazed at the contradictions in his thoughts and actions. Would it not be in his best interest to let Lekain's war of bigotry against the laguz alliance run its course? After all, it might well become large enough to awaken Ashera, and fulfill his dream. And yet, his loyalty to Sanaki required him to fight Lekain with all his strength and all his wits. He shook his head in amused disgust. His behavior made no sense even to himself.

But then again, the man once called Lehran had not been what one would call 'sane' for the last twenty years.


	5. Unforeseen Consequences

**Chapter 5: Unforeseen Consequences**

Micaiah and Sothe, along with the rest of the original Dawn Brigade, were helping a friend of Nolan's rebuild his house when the summons from King Pelleas came, asking Micaiah to see him as soon as possible. Exhausted from a long afternoon of work (and she had been given the least arduous tasks, so how would the others feel?), Micaiah was fast to agree, only to be immediately onset by a guilty conscience that she would try to escape the work for a stay in the keep. Of course everybody told her that it was all right, and that she should go immediately – she was, after all, the commander of Daein's army; a position that she had not exactly been standing in line for.

"You should all be taking a break," she said while pulling up her long arm glove for the hundredth time today; no sense in risking it gliding off and revealing her mark. "We've been working almost since sunrise, and it's afternoon now."

"I'm all for a break," Leonardo said and promptly put down a wooden beam that he was carrying with Edward. "Hey, don't just drop it," the young swordsman told his comrade with a scowl, "you could have crushed my toes!"

"Toes are overrated," Nolan said from after, his bare chest glistening with sweat as he carried two large bricks in each hand. "Do toes help you carry loads? No. Do they help you fight enemies? No. I lost three of my toes in a lumberjacking accident as a youth, and am I any worse off for it?"

Micaiah put a hand before her mouth and giggled: Knowing Nolan, he had made up the 'accident' on the spot to let the young ones know that they were, essentially, huge wimps, as opposed to members of his generation. Besides, she was positive that all of his toes were still intact.

"You are, no doubt, the manliest man in Nevassa," Leonardo sighed, long since used to Nolan's ridiculous stories.

"The manliest man in all of Daein," Edward corrected him.

"Whoa, hold it," Nolan said and let the bricks in his right hand drop to the ground, then those in his left. "Why not in all of Tellius, hm?"

Micaiah heard nearby Sothe mutter something in response, but did not catch any of it except something that sounded suspiciously like 'Ike'. She decided not to comment on it; she was chiding him often enough for his unsettling admiration to the infamous Crimean general as it was. Hopefully, he would grow out of it some day, or at least pick an idol of Daein origin – General Tauroneo was quite manly, too, although perhaps a bit old.

"Are we going?" Sothe was standing before her, wiping his dirtied hands on his equally dirtied vest. "Or would you prefer to go alone?"

"Don't be silly." Micaiah mad a dismissive gesture. "I'd probably get lost in the keep without you... all those hallways look the same to me."

"I'm glad I can be of some use," Sothe said in a dry tone, but Micaiah knew he was joking (in his own, Sothe-like way, at least). The two of them were virtually inseparable and rarely ever went alone anywhere, which sometimes – only sometimes – could annoy Micaiah; most of the time, she found Sothe's presence comforting and reassuring. Since she was horribly insecure at heart, his positively stoic demeanor never failed to instill her with confidence, even though she was older than him and it really should have been the other way round.

"I think we should get ourselves a meal," Nolan said in a tone that made it his suggestion an imperative. "I'm so hungry I could eat a boar."

"Ilyana would eat two," Edward commented, and he and Leonardo left with Nolan and his friend on their quest for food. "Don't hurry back for us," Nolan called back over his shoulder as they left through an unfinished door frame, "we're going to take our time before we continue."

"And there I thought we'd be calling it quits for today." Leonardo's complaint was the last thing Micaiah could understand, then she looked at Sothe and smiled. "Let's go."

The way to Daein Keep was not long, but it _took _long: At every corner, somebody recognized Micaiah as the 'Maiden of Dawn' who had liberated Daein from Begnion oppression, and so they were delayed many times in order to accept a few words of thanks or exchange some pleasantries. Sothe stiffened several times when somebody got too close to her (he was _so_ adorable when he got overprotective), but here in Nevassa, Micaiah felt as safe as could be: She knew that the people loved her; had loved her even before the liberation, and she was certain that no possible harm could befall her here.

_Unless they see my mark_, she thought bitterly and pulled up her arm glove after a brush with a passersby. Anti-laguz sentiment was still regrettably wide-spread in Daein, and Micaiah did not even want to think about what would happen if these people found out that she was a half-breed (a _true_ half-breed, not the common term used for the laguz, but rather someone with laguz and beorc blood in her veins): All their affection might vanish completely and turn into fear and distrust, even hate. Other than losing Sothe or Daein losing its freedom again, this was Micaiah's greatest nightmare.

"Micaiah? Are you all right?" Sothe asked. He probably knew what she had been thinking as soon as she had tugged on her arm glove; it was a natural consequence of being together almost all the time.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said. "I'm sorry," she raised her voice, "but we really have to see King Pelleas now! Please let us through.... thank you, thank you."

_It's pretty weird, that I love them and fear them so much at the same time._ She had talked about that to Sothe, who had simply dismissed her concerns with: "You're not weird. Nobody wants to be hated, you know."

_Some day, we have to leave Nevassa behind... and with it Nolan, Edward, Leonardo... and Pelleas._ Micaiah postponed that thought; it was still too early for that. Nobody had caught up to her slow aging, or at least nobody had mentioned it yet.

"There we are," Sothe said as they reached the keep's main gate, guarded by black-armored Daein soldiers who saluted their commander and opened it immediately. "I wonder what Pelleas wants. He has a bad habit of summoning you for the most trivial things."

"Not everybody can be as independent as you, Sothe," Micaiah told him with the slight sting in her voice that she always used when defending Pelleas. "He's just afraid to make mistakes, because in his position, a mistake can cost many lives."

"Yes, I understand," Sothe sighed. "One of these days, I'll stop criticizing Pelleas, and you stop denigrating Ike. How does that sound?"

"Pretty good," Micaiah said with a grin. "But you know how we are. We're not going to change."

"No. You never change," he said solemnly. It made her feel weird, and a little bit sad, but she said nothing.

They reached the throne room and entered it, finding Pelleas alone except for two guards, sitting on the throne that was far too large for him. Micaiah wondered where Lady Almedha was, since she was almost always at her son's side, but decided that her absence might not be an altogether bad thing.

"Micaiah!" Pelleas rose from the throne, visibly happy to have an excuse for doing so. "Thank you for coming on such short notice." He nodded at Sothe, who nodded back, neither mentioning that _he_ had not been summoned. Everybody at the keep had accepted the special relationship between him and Micaiah, although sometimes, acceptance was accompanied by rumors, rarely of the flattering sort. She had learned to ignore the rumors; after all, the two of them were not... well, at least not yet... which was to say...

"It was nothing," Micaiah said while shaking her head free of _those_ thoughts. "I'm always glad to help you if I can."

"You're clothes are all dirty, and your faces are sweaty," Pelleas said with audible concern – he was pretty much always concerned; even Micaiah had to admit that. "Did something happen?"

"_Work_ happened," Sothe said before she could answer. "Those homes General Jarod burned down aren't going to rebuild themselves, you know."

"SOTHE!" She punched him in the side. _This must be a new speed record for criticizing Pelleas. He's horrible!_

"What? I'm just speaking the truth!" Sothe defended himself.

"It's all right," Pelleas said hastily. He was almost following a rehearsed script: Pelleas saying something ambiguous, Sothe getting snarky, Micaiah dressing him down, and finally, Pelleas telling them that Sothe was right. She had to admit, it could be funny at times.

"I'm not very useful to the reconstruction effort, sitting on this throne all day," the young king said with an apologetic smile.

"You mean you're literally sitting here all day?" Sothe asked. Micaiah refrained from punching him again only out of a misplaced sense of mercy.

"No... I mean, not always," Pelleas said, raising his palms. "I often talk to mother, and General Tauroneo, and the ministers..." He made a meaningful pause. "And to Izuka, before he vanished."

"It's about him, isn't it?" Micaiah asked and peered cautiously at Sothe: He did not take well at all to the mention of the eccentric naturalist who had secretly given a harmful drug to one of his laguz friends. Micaiah had defended him because she had known how much Pelleas relied on him, but now he was gone; since the night of Pelleas' coronation. Along with the 'ghost of old Daein', the Black Knight.

"I wanted to ask you if you had any new ideas about where Izuka might be," Pelleas said. He sounded doubtful but was still keeping up a cautious smile. "I take it you didn't see him or you would have told me, but maybe you thought of something? Some place where he could have gone – he and the Black Knight?"

Sothe opened his mouth, no doubt about to ask: "Is that why you called us here? To ask us the same old question again?", but Micaiah shut him up with a pre-emptive glare.

"First of all," she said, "just because the two of them vanished in the same night doesn't necessarily mean they left together. We have to make note of that."

"Agreed. I, too find it hard to imagine that they eloped together," Sothe said dryly. "Perhaps they killed each other?"

"Sothe!" There he went again! "You look like you would be happy about that!"

"Well, there's no point lying to you, is there?" Micaiah let out an exaggerated sigh. Sothe could be so vengeful sometimes... no doubt a trait he had borrowed from his precious hero, Ike.

Pelleas, who had become very good at overhearing or outright ignoring Sothe's snarks (when he wasn't agreeing with them outright), shook his head. "I don't think the two of them even talked to each other in the short time the Black Knight was here." He looked at the door to his private chamber behind the throne. "My mother says they have been kidnapped in order to weaken me."

"I find it hard to imagine that _anybody _could kidnap the Black Knight," Micaiah said carefully. Sothe nodded several times, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world... and in his defense, it kind of was.

"Ah, you're right," Pelleas said with a disappointed tone. "When my mother suggested it, it sounded so reasonable. But now that you put it that way..."

"Perhaps you should not be so dependent on your mother, Your Majesty," Sothe said formally.

"Sothe!"

"Ouch! What now?" He rubbed his side where she had jabbed him. "I was just trying to be helpful this time!"

"Please, stop this!" Pelleas pleaded, his tone as sincere and dramatic as if they had pointed swords at each others' throats. "I've taken no offense. In fact, Sothe is probably right. But it's so difficult... I haven't had a mother for so long, how can I turn away from her now?"

"I'm not asking you to disown her or anything," Sothe corrected the King. "Just... ween yourself off of her, will you?"

"Weening off? I may try that sometime," Pelleas said, though it did not sound very convincing even to Micaiah. "Anyway, you two seem to be very busy, and I don't want to hold you from your work any longer." A sad expression came over his face – it always came when talking to Pelleas, it was only a matter of time. "At least you two are doing something useful, unlike your king. The most exerting work I've done since my coronation was signing a treaty!" He seemed to reminisce for a moment, then shook his head. "Anyway, farewell to you. Don't overwork yourself!"

"Uhm... yes, farewell. Until our next meeting," Micaiah said, unsatisfied that very little had actually happened as she followed Sothe out of the room.

"Well, that was a waste of time," he said once the throne room's door had closed behind them. "I mean... of all the people in Daein, Pelleas worries about those two criminals?"

"Don't make fun of him!" Micaiah demanded. She absolutely _hated_ it when people were made fun of. In return, Sothe put up his adorable 'I'm-being-wronged' face, which made Micaiah laugh – as Sothe grew older, that particular expression became increasingly rare.

"But seriously," he said while following her back to the keep's gate, "there's no way anyone kidnapped the Black Knight, at least not without leaving a couple of dozen corpses at the spot where they nabbed him. Izuka, on the other hand, would probably be easy enough to abduct. Perhaps it was Tormod? In that case, you should give him a medal."

"I'm not hearing this," Micaiah said and leapt off a small ledge to a lower level. "Izuka may have some questionable morals, but he's a loyal servant to the king, and thus do Daein!" In reply, Sothe only sighed.

"Your concern about Daein is truly noble, but sometimes, I think you're taking it too far. Like right now, when you're defending that man. Have your forgotten what he did to Muarim?"

"No, of course not!" How could she forget the laguz' torments, alleviated only by the heron Rafiel's timely intervention? "But he truly only wished to increase Daein's strength, so we could throw off the yoke of Begnion!"

"I give up," Sothe said and shook his head. "You're hopeless."

"You may say that, but you still never leave my side," Micaiah teased him.

"Was that a complaint?" She thought she heard a slight edge in his voice, and hurried to shake her head.

"No! Of course not, I was just–"

"Oh, stop it already!" Sothe laughed with ostentation. "Don't get all scared just because I make a joke, or you'll sound like Pelleas one day."

_It's because I couldn't stand losing you_, Micaiah thought, but didn't say it out loud. After all, Sothe knew that. Or did he?

_Yes, he does. He definitely does._

"Don't worry, Micaiah," Sothe said as they passed through the keep's gate and stopped right there, unsure where to go now that their audience had ended so soon. He made a step toward her and looked her straight in the eyes. "You couldn't drive me away even if you tried. I'd follow you to... into..." He looked for words. "Well, I'd probably follow you into a whole lot of stupid endeavours."

"While critizing me every step on the way, right?"

"Naturally. Now come on, let's go find the others. We just have to hit all the usual food places. And no talking about Izuka on the way, all right? That always leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth."

"Hmpf," Micaiah pouted. "It's not that I like him myself... but if only for Pelleas' sake, I would really like to know where he is."

* * *

Drawn by two horses, a small covered wagon made its way across the massive stone bridge spanning the border river. Two of its three passengers were sitting on the bench, while the third was tucked away in the back under the cover, bound, gagged and rather wroth. The finely-dressed man holding the reins turned to his companion and spoke with a superbly melodic voice:

"Behold! It is the Riven Bridge that does connect the land of Crimea with Daein. Once we're across, we'll stand on Crimean soil."

"I know that," the other said with a hint of petulance and pulled on his pipe "I've been around." The first man seemed not to pick up on his undertones as he happily conceded the point.

"Indeed, my friend, you are a traveled man, much like a bird of passage whose large wings do carry him from land to far-off land."

"I'm not your friend, Count, I'm in your employ. And I don't have wings." He closed his eyes and leaned backwards against the driver's bench. "And I don't know why I'm putting up with your rhyming."

"It's not rhyming, it's verse," Bastian said to his hired assassin. "And you're putting up with it because I'm paying you extra for it. After all, I cannot return to Crimea with my silver tongue diminished. Ahem. Now where were we?" He pulled the reins slightly to increase the horses speed. "O beasts of burden, hurry on your path, so that my eyes may sooner set upon beloved Crimea, land of my birth."

"They're not beasts of burden, they're draft animals," Volke explained. "Big difference."

"Well, that may be, but I have to find words that fit the meter," Bastian said, as if he was explaining something to a child. He was not worried to injure Volke's pride, though; as best as he knew from all their dealings over the year, the man did not have such a thing as pride. And if he had, it would probably be for sale.

"So you make the world around you fit into your self-made patterns? How very like you, Count. Watch the pothole!"

"I saw it," Bastian said even though he had not, and steered the wagon slightly to the right to avoid the man-deep hole. "Curse those Daein louts for putting all these holes in a perfectly fine bridge."

"It's been three years since the battle that took place here," Volke scowled. "Why haven't they been fixed?"

"Few people travel from Daein to Crimea, or the other way round," Bastian explained. "And neither country seems to feel responsible for the bridge's maintenance, both claiming that it belongs to the other nation."

"Yes, and when the next war comes, they'll both be racing to occupy it again. What foolishness." Volke shook his head. "But as long as it means work for me..."

"I hope there will not be a _next war_," Bastian said firmly, then intoned again: "It is the wish of my beloved queen to see a true and lasting peace between Crimea, Daein, and all the men on earth."

"Does 'men' include laguz?" Volke asked with a bored tone.

"Well of course it does," Bastian replied indignantly. "Queen Elincia wishes peace with all of Tellius' nations." He shrugged. "But again, I had to make it fit the verse." Why was Volke always so unappreciative? He would not be talking to him at all if not for a hefty bonus!

"Peace with Daein, eh?" Volke snickered. "So how does kidnapping the king's closest advisor fit into this?" He pointed his thumb over his shoulder; superfluously, as Bastian thought: Both of them knew well who was lying in the carriage, bound, gagged, and almost completely covered with straw. "If Daein ever learned about this, they would surely consider it an act of war."

"Then it's a good thing they _don't _know about it, nor will they ever learn – provided you keep your mouth shut about it."

"You insult me, Count," Volke said without making the slightest effort to actually sound insulted. "I am a professional. My discretion is always guaranteed."

"And it better be, considering your fares." _20,000 gold pieces for helping me kidnap this Izuka character! And another 4,000 for the opportunity – no, the privilege – to listen to my famed silver tongue! _He _should be paying _me_!_ "Not that I have any complaints," he quickly added – trying to haggle with Volke was an exercise in futility. _A cut-throat in every sense of the word! _ But Volke was very good at what he did; there was no denying that.

"At any rate," Bastian resumed their conversation, "this ingenious plan of mine is a complete secret – not even to Daein, but also to my Queen Elincia herself."

"You're acting on your own initiative?" Volke raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know that. Guess listening to your torrents of words isn't a total waste of time."

"My queen is far too noble to be concocting such a dastardly scheme," Bastian said, not without taking some pride in said dastardly scheme. "There's not a single stain on her pure heart to lead her down the pathways of deceit." He thought about Ludveck's plans of rebellion and hoped that Geoffrey and Sir Ike had it all well in hand – leaving Elincia alone before Duke Felirae's machinations had been quite a gamble.

_I will know soon enough. No sense in fretting now._

"Pathways of deceit," Volke muttered. "I like that one." He cleared his throat. "Usually, I wouldn't even be asking such questions, but since you're actually _paying _me to converse with you... don't you think it's a bit presumptuous for a mere count to plan and execute such a... dastardly scheme without his queen's leave?"

"Oh, nonsense," Bastian said and waved dismissively. "I am a loyal confidant and friend to my beloved Queen Elincia and only have her welfare on my mind."

"That's not what I said." Volke looked up. "Another pothole." This time, Bastian had seen it, and as he steered the wagon around it, he saw that they had crossed about half of Riven Bridge's length.

"I'm sure you're acting in her best interests, but you're still patronizing her, kidnapping that... man without her permission. Just like that other scheme you spoke about – deliberately allowing rebellion to ferment, only to hire a bunch of... well, essentially bodyguards, to take care of the Queen in your absence?" Volke blew smoke from his pipe, and the wind carried it in Bastian's face, making him cough. "I don't know much about statecraft, but it seems to me you're weakening her – intentionally or not. Undermining her position, her authority."

"I know that," Bastian replied. Did Volke think him a fool? "But if my plan works, that won't matter, because she won't be queen for much longer."

Volke blinked several times in a row, which was probably about as much surprise as he was ever going to show. Then he leaned against the bench again and smirked.

"Why, you're full of surprises, Count Fayre. I didn't think you were aspiring to the throne of Crimea."

"Hold your tongue, hireling!" Bastian immediately scowled at his own outburst, but once again, Volke was as far from offended as could be. "Are you saying I misunderstood you?" he asked.

"I am afraid I must explain myself, unless my reputation be befouled by foolish minds that think such foolish thoughts."

"Go on."

Bastian sighed. "This may be difficult to understand – feelings of friendship and sympathy and commiseration are surely alien to you – but I am only trying to help Elincia, to ease the suffering on her heart."

"By removing her from the throne? You'd think she would be displeased."

"If you had been at fair Elincia's side for three whole years while watching, day by day, as every ounce of joy was sapped from her, then you might understand." Bastian sighed and closed his eyes. "I fear that aiding her to gain the throne was a mistake of magnitude untold and cast her heart into a pit of flame. So I must make amends for what I did, allow the tortured soul to leave behind the crown that presses down upon her head."

"You want to take her place for her own good. Right." Volke sounded amused.

"What nonsense," Bastian grumbled. "I thought you would have seen the truth by now. Think! Why are we here?"

"What are you hinting at?" The assassin scowled and kept still for a minute, then nodded. "Ah, I see now. Clever, Count Fayre. Very clever."

_So has he seen it? Ah, I'll explain it to him, anyway, just to make sure._

"I would not dare in ten or thousand years to steal away the crown of House Ridell and place my worthless bottom on the throne. Nor'd I allow a cruel, ambitious man, like Ludveck, whom I told you much about, to style himself the ruler of our land." He took a second to compose his next verse. "But there is one who is, by right and law, as well as by ability and strength, the perfect king for our haunted land."

"The man who's currently chained in the dungeon of your castle," Volke completed with a knowing voice, "tearing against his chains, screaming for someone to kill him while dreaming of killing a thousand others." He nodded again, pleased with himself. "Bertram."

"It is Duke Renning!" Bastian said furiously. "You will not call him by the name of that... monstrosity."

"But he _is_ that monstrosity," Volke pointed out.

"Not for much longer." Bastian pointed at the wagon's rear section, housing nothing but a stack of hay and the captive concealed beneath it. "As soon as this foul man disgorges the formula that will restore Duke Renning, he can take his place on the throne as he was meant to, and finally release Elincia from the anguish that she feels day after day." He closed his eyes and recalled the last three years, and their effect on poor Elincia. "She blames herself for everything that goes wrong in Crimea," he explained in plain speech, "and takes all the suffering of her subjects to heart. And all the nobles do is criticise her day in, day out, like a flock of ravens picking at her eyes."

"And you think she can't take it."

"Oh, she's performing admirably, and she would never, ever consider stepping down for a lesser king – but her uncle is a different case! I'm sure she will gladly relinquish the crown to Duke Renning once we have restored him, and be able to live a long and happy life. As her friend, I feel that it is my duty to bring her relief even if it means deceiving her for a time."

"How touching," Volke said dryly.

"Ah, it is as I said: I can't expect a man like you to understand the deeper movements of the heart."

"I know a thing or two about hearts," the assassin replied. "I've removed a bunch of them during my time."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"But there's something else I do not understand," Volke said. "According to my investigations, Renning was twisted by the same method as the feral laguz. But we both witnessed the heron royals cure the Mad King's mount – what was his name again? Raja-something or other? – with only the power of their song. So why didn't you ask them, instead of having me investigate on and off over the course of three years?"

Bastian nodded. Yes, Volke was a sharp one, and was bound to take notice of something like this.

"Politics," he said simply. "Crimea already owes enough to other nations: its very existence, and the life of its current queen, to Gallia and Begnion. The new king should be free of such debts – at least as long as there is another way." He let out his breath through his teeth; undignified though it was. "If we wrestle the cure from Izuka, Duke Renning's restoration will be Crimea's own achievement, and we need not add to the list of things we owe other nations." He shrugged. "Asking Prince Reyson and Princess Leanne for aid is of course still a last resort. But first, I plan to get every bit of knowledge out of this Izuka, and cure Duke Renning without foreign aid."

"I kind of see your point. Kind of. But what will your queen say? All these years, she believed her dear uncle dead. Not to mention the duke himself, who's been turned into a crazed beast for so long."

"Yet still he holds on to life with a tenacity matched by no other man," Bastian insisted. "It is a painful road I have put both them on, and I will accept my punishment, be it at the hand of Queen Elincia or King Renning, in due time. But in the end, I believe this is the better way, if not for Elincia or Renning, then at least for Crimea."

"So, the ends might justify the means?" Volke asked with a raised eyebrow.

"They do, sometimes. To a certain extent. I have learned some things from you, too, over the years."

"I am happy to teach." Again Volke blew smoke in Bastian's direction, forcing him to cough. He had not expected anything but indifference from his partner in crime – the man cared about nothing except money, after all – and was still convinced that he was doing the right thing.

_The throne was never supposed to be poor Elincia's burden, but Duke Renning's. Surely, both of them will see it this way. And even if they don't, restoring Renning will still be worth all the trouble we're going through._

"Well, here we are," Volke suddenly said, and Bastian noticed that during his introspection, their carriage had cleared the bridge and they were now on Crimean soil.

"Excellent!" Bastian said and filled his lungs with fresh Crimean air, though he silently admitted to himself that it was not _that_ different from the air in Daein. "From here on, we pass through Delbray, circle around the capital and into Fayre."

"Where I will receive the second half of my payment," Volke said. It was not a demand, but a statement: Bastian had never failed to pay the self-styled 'fireman' before, and had always been on time (which was a good thing, too, because Volke had zero tolerance for tardiness).

"Actually, it is my hope that you would enjoy the hospitality of my castle for a while, to assist me in the putrid Izuka's interrogation."

"Your castle is an art gallery around which somebody accidentally dug a moat. And I don't like to stay in one place for a long time. However..."

"...if the pay is right..."

"You know my weakness." Volke rubbed his palms and looked over his shoulder into the wagon's rear section. "I wonder how long he lasts until he surrenders the cure."

_Oh, Volke. Always with the excessive violence._

"There is no need for your, ah... 'severe interrogation methods', which I, frankly, find distasteful. But Izuka doesn't know that, so your continued presence alone should pose a suitably subtle threat."

"Cooperate or you will be given to the man with the knives." Volke nodded. "I guess that could work."

Bastian steered the wagon up a low slope, around the remains of old Daein fortifications that still blocked the road. Once on the hill, the two men could overlook the eastern regions of Delbray: Large, green meadows bordering deep forests, with the occasional peasant village thrown in. There were a few small moving dots visible far ahead of them on the road, as well as a wagon much like their own, perhaps a bit smaller, moving toward them. When the two wagons passed each other a few minutes later, Bastian stopped his horses and greeted the other driver: a white-haired, old man with a large straw hat drawn over his face.

"Hello, friend," he said, foregoing his usually stilted speech for a more rustical approach to facilitate communication.

"Hallo thar, lad. Ye're comin' in from Daein?" There was a hint of obligatory suspicion in his cracked voice, but nothing more: Ever since Ashnard's death, hostilities between the two neighboring nations had ceased completely, with not even a single notable skirmish to break the peace.

"Yes, yes. We are traveling merchants and sold all of our inventory in Nevassa." In case the old man asked, Bastian would urge Volke to present the first half of his payment as their 'profit', but no question came: The man seemed trusting enough, probably because Bastian spoke without a Daein accent.

"So ye haven't been to Crimea 'n a while, right?"

"Right," Bastian nodded and thought about Ludveck's plans of rebellion: He was burning to know what had happened during his absence. "Did anything of importance happen?"

"You bet yer curls somethin' happened. An uprising!"

"Oh my," Bastian said, his shock manufactured for the sake of appearances. "I hope the queen is all right?" That question, at least, was utterly genuine.

"Ah, Queen Elincia's fine," the old man said. "My daughter was at the place where she fought those rebel scum, and she saw the queen herself afterwards!"

"That is good to hear," Bastian said with a breath of relief. Truly, his gamble had been a bit daring, but it seemed to have succeeded. "What happened to the mastermind?"

"Bah, not much of a master, not much of a mind. Or he wouldn't have lost, yes?" The man grinned. "The queen hung him right after the battle. Ma daughter said he dangled real good."

That particular bit of news came as a surprise to Bastian. Elincia, hanging Ludveck on the spot (it had to be him; who else?) without a trial? Perhaps the man's daughter had gotten it wrong.

"Are you sure it was Lud... the rebel leader who was hung, and not somebody else?"

"Yea, there was somebody else, but, afore that." The man frowned, which made his face even more wrinkled than it already was. "The rebels said they hang 'em if the queen don't step down. But she didn't give up or nothing! Stone cold, ma daughter said. Watched the hanging with her own eyes!"

"That... is surely admirable." _They tried to blackmail Elincia, and went through with it? Of all the foul... Goddess, who could it be?_

"Do you know the name of that person?" Bastian's voice was trembling. His voice _never_ trembled, but just now, it did. _Don't let it be Geoffrey or Lucia!_

"Ma daughter said she's a friend of the queen's. Young lass with blue hair. Lucilla or something'." The old man shook his head. "Said she called the queen's name 'fore she died. A damn shame, if you ask me. I mean..."

But Bastian could no longer hear what the man was saying.

_Lucia! No. This... this is..._

"Hey, now," Volke called out next to him. "Don't go fainting on me."

"What's the matter? You know that girl?"

"Lucia... my evening star... my shining..." Bastian gasped for breath, overcome with nausea.

_This can't be! This is my fault!_

_No, it must be a mistake! It must be someone else! Someone who-_

"But she got avenged," the old man suddenly said. "Her own brother hanged that evil duke right afterward. Noose was still warm, I bet."

_Her brother. That would be Geoffrey. Oh, merciful Goddess, that removes all doubt._

_And all because of me! Oh, what have I done?_

Bastian felt himself slump over, and was seized by two strong arms before he could fall off the bench. "You're going to take a rest," he heard Volke's voice before he was dragged into the wagon's rear section and laid down on the straw. The head of a tied and gagged man was sticking out of the straw and stared at Bastian, but the Count of Fayre had no idea who he was; had no idea what was going on around him... except that in his arrogance, he had killed the woman he unrequitedly loved.

"I'm taking the reins," a familiar voice said. "Don't worry, I know the way." Then, muted: "That'll cost him extra."

Moments later, the wagon moved again, and Bastian felt the world around him turn blurry. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the gagged man's face staring at him from mad, outraged eyes.


	6. A Short Respite

**Chapter 6: A Short Respite**

The victorious army of Crimean loyalists made its way through the countryside at a slow pace, which was apparently typical for armies on the march. Before her time with the Greil Mercenaries, Elincia had believed that armies were always rushing and running from place to place, but she had learned that this was only the case in emergencies. About two thirds of the soldiers were walking on foot, and while she could have rushed ahead with the knights, she would rather have her army arrive in Melior united, so that all could share in the victory celebrations.

They had been moving all day, and though Elincia knew she had it better than the foot soldiers, she could not deny that her back and behind were aching from spending many long hours in the saddle. The setting sun colored the horizon red, promising the relief of a night's sleep for her aching body, and she found herself silently cheering on the sun to set faster. Then she realized that she would be sleeping on the hard ground with only a few blankets to cushion her, and sighed, fearing for her back. One of the knights riding around her looked up at the sound, and she quickly turned away so the man could not see her weary face.

_I'm truly pampered beyond redemption. During my time with the Greil Mercenaries, that's how I slept every day!_

As always when she thought of her time with Ike and his men during the war to liberate her homeland, Elincia allowed herself to reminisce. Those days had been largely devoid of creature comforts, and the uncertainty about the outcome of their struggle had always weighed heavily upon them (well, upon her, at least) – and yet, she often thought about those twelve months with a profound sense of nostalgia. Back then, the enemy had been clad in black armor, announcing their intentions loud and clear, and the world had been so much simpler.

_But it was also a terrible time for Crimea_, she told herself immediately. _These days are much better, even accounting for the recent rebellion. No more Daein soldiers ravaging the country, mistreating and exploiting the people, and no more Mad King sitting on the throne. If the price for this peace is a queen's discomfort, then I must gladly pay it!_

_Gladly?_

_Well, perhaps not gladly. But pay it I will. And I will at least pretend to be happy, so that nobody has to worry about me. Like poor Geoffrey..._

Elincia opened her eyes when she heard the sound of hoofbeats closing up to her. It was Geoffrey, sitting straight in the saddle regardless of the late hour, and not a hint of exhaustion on his familiar features. It was almost as if her thoughts had summoned him...

"Your Majesty," he said, pulling his horse along Atlas, "we won't be able to reach Melior before nightfall." His voice was laced with a hint of regret, as if their slow progress had been caused by tardiness on his part. "With your leave, we will stop for the night shortly."

"You have my leave," Elincia groaned, "if only so I can get out of the saddle before I become glued to it." She blinked, surprised at her open show of discomfort in front of her subjects – had she not been adamantly against that just now?

_I guess Geoffrey's presence changes many things_, she thought and rubbed her eyes. "Knowing you, you have already a place in mind to set up camp."

"Indeed," he replied with a smirk. "And I believe it will be to your liking."

"Anything where I can lay down would be to my liking," Elincia said wearily. "Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?"

"The answer should become visible right after we reached the top of this hill." Elincia gave her knight a questioning look, but he refused to elaborate further, so she simply waited until Atlas had climbed the slope and the small valley below opened up to her eyes. At the center of it, there was a large white building with a red-tiled roof, surrounded by large, symmetrical gardens – a place fit to house a princess. Of course Elincia recognized it immediately.

"It's the villa!" she exclaimed happily. Once again, memories of a better time came flooding back – a part of her life that lay even farther back than her time with the Greil Mercenaries, and one that she remembered even more fondly. Growing up in the seclusion of the royal villa with her dear friends always near, the title of princess nothing but a formality that would never have an appreciable impact on her life.

_I was so naive back then. The only reason I lived such a luxurious life was because of my royal heritage. To think I took all this for granted and never expected to give anything in return!_

But after her coronation, Elincia had realized that she would be repaying her debt for the rest of her life, and it would just barely be enough to compensate for the carefree adolescence she had been able to enjoy. She wondered on occasion whether she would have rather lived the life of a commoner if given the choice, but she exorcised those thoughts when they befell her: The past was set, and even if she could, she would never trade it for a past that was not hers. But she would never relinquish the memories of this place, no matter how much she might still come to regret her royal birth.

"I'm glad to see you approve of my choice of lodgings," Geoffrey said. "With the auxiliary buildings, we should be able to fit most if not all of the soldiers inside. It will be ridiculously cramped, but it beats sleeping on a mat under the sky."

"I knew the villa was somewhere in this region, but I never thought... What are the odds of us just stumbling across it?"

"The fact that I remembered its location and purposefully had us travel in this direction probably helped to even those odds," Geoffrey said with a hint of well-deserved boasting. "After all, I was here quite often."

"It's funny," Elincia said, "if you had asked me a week before, I wouldn't have been able to find this place on a map, in spite of the many years I spent here. Before the Daein invasion, I had no idea in which part of the country we were... and afterwards, I never came back."

_No, I never returned here during the last three years. I barely even thought of this place. I wonder who lives here now?_

"The villa was being maintained as a royal retreat, should you ever wish to retire from court for a while to replenish your strength," Geoffrey said, once again reading her thoughts, or close enough. "Scouts reported that the servants fled during the rebellion – they probably feared that as your retainers, they might face repercussions from the usurper." There was a disapproving undertone in his voice – how dared those retainers doubt their queen's ability to win through against all adversaries! "All the facilities are in excellent condition," he concluded.

"Did you hear that, Atlas?" Elincia leaned forward and whispered into the ear of her pegasus. "You'll get to sleep in your old stable tonight!" As if in response, Atlas snorted loudly and shook his head. _Right_, Elincia thought_, as if you would care where you sleep. An old warhorse through and through._

"Fine," she said and patted his head. "I for one will enjoy my old bed." She looked at Geoffrey and nodded. "Let's go!"

Geoffrey shouted a command, and the army made its way down the slope into the valley. There was audible anticipation all around Elincia: The men were pleasantly surprised that they would not be sleeping under the stars tonight, and were looking forward to see the place where their queen had been raised. Elincia almost felt a little embarrassed, as if she was bringing some friends home with her to stay overnight for the first time.

_They're a lot of friends_, she thought with a wry smile. _Though I won't be able to extend much hospitality. But as long as it's dry and warm, they'll probably be happy._

Sore from walking and eager to rest their tired bones, the soldiers began to break formation, and Elincia watched them hurry past her toward the villa. Geoffrey scowled in disapproval, but held his tongue; they both knew that there was no danger waiting for them here.

"With your permission, I'll go on ahead," he said when the first of the men reached the boundary of the estate. "Somebody must make sure the roseries won't get trampled." Elincia nodded in approval and Geoffrey galloped down the slope toward the villa, yelling at the soldiers to invade the premises in an orderly fashion. Elincia doubted they would obey, but it mattered little: Though she had spent much time promenading in them, roseries did not concern her much these days: She had learned the hard way that sometimes, roses were just trampled, and that was that.

"Well, what do ya know?" a distinct male voice suddenly sounded somewhere on Elincia's right. "Queen Elincia used ta live here for years. Princess Elincia, I mean. Ah, ya know what I mean."

"I reckon we should've thought o' that," a woman answered. Like the man before her, she was talking in a drawl typical of rural villagers, though she sounded a tad more self-conscious about it. "I always wanted to meet the lady livin' here. Turns out I already did."

"Brom! Nephenee!" Elincia had Atlas turn and trot toward the two soldiers standing a little off the beaten path, watching and fingerpointing at the villa. "I'm glad you two are alive and well!"

"Your Majesty!" The two turned around, armor clanking. "We're glad that _you're_ alive!" Brom said, a smile on his chubby face. "If somethin' had happened to you... why, I would have given that Ludveck a hidin' that he'd never forget!"

"We heard about yer... your friend," Nephenee said, her face half-covered by her helmet, as always. Elincia sometimes wondered why she never took it off even outside off battle, but she was not nosy enough to ask. "That was a very noble thing you did, Your Highness," she added, her voice filled with admiration. "I dunno if I could've done the same."

"I couldn't have," Brom said. "My oldest is the same age as that poor Lucia lass... if anyone would've threatened to kill her..." Tears swelled up in his face. "Don't let anyone ever tell you again that you're a bad queen! You hear me?" He brought his armored fists against each other. "Not one of them naggers would have the stones to do what you did! Ingrates, the whole lot of 'em!"

"Thank you," Elincia said and dismounted, then walked toward the two former militiamen. "I really appreciate your..." She broke off and stared. _I appreciate your kindness? _What sort of lame reply was that?

"It was the hardest decision I had to make in my life," she said honestly. "I pray I'll never have to live through something like this again." _But if I did, I'd make the same choice, of course. If only so that Lucia's life wasn't sacrificed for nothing._

"I'm not lyin' when say that I don't care a spit for war," Brom said, still angry and tearful at the same time. "I'm glad the fightin's over and done with, I can tell you that. But I swear, Your Highness, if some stuck-up noble or whoever tries to push you around ever again, you can count on me!"

"Me, too," Nephenee seconded. "Actually..." She hesitated for a second. "I kinda thought about becomin' a soldier. Full time, I mean. So that this sort of travesty don't happen again."

"You would be a great help," Elincia said. "But no matter what the future may bring, you already earned my everlasting gratitude... again. Nobody made you fight for me, and still you risked your lives to fight in a civil war caused by my–"

"'cuse me, but you hafta stop talking like that," Nephenee interrupted, her arms crossed over her chest. "Your Highness," she added as an afterthought.

"The gal's right," Brom was quick to agree. "You're sellin' yourself mighty short, and that's no good. I mean, you don't hafta strut around like you own the place, but you gotta take pride in yourself." He scowled and sniffed at the same time, unsuccessfully trying to wipe his face dry with his gauntlet. "If you blame yourself for everythin', you'll just be miserable," Nephenee continued for him. "Don't go makin' excuses for things that ain't your fault."

"You're not the first ones to tell me something like this," Elincia said, although there was a subtle difference to the way Marcia or Geoffrey had treated her. These two showed little of that hated pity, but something more like... respect?

_Whatever it is, I like it a lot more than pity._

"You're not the first ones," she repeated, "but it looks like it takes several repetitions for me to learn. I promise you that I won't act like this again, that I'll put blame where blame is due. Will that be all right?"

"That's the spirit." Brom nodded eagerly. "We couldn't have ourselves a finer queen."

"That's about right," Nephenee nodded, then turned her head toward the villa. "So, did you really live here? Back when you were a princess, I mean."

"Yes, I did." Elincia recalled the earlier conversation between the two. "Do you know this place?"

"I reckon' we do," Nephenee said and looked at Brom. "I mean, we're basically neighbors. Or used to, at least."

"Neighbors? What do you mean?"

"You see that forest?" Brom asked and pointed at a large expanse of trees south of the villa. Elincia recalled that she had never been allowed to enter it because of wild beasts roaming there. "Beyond that forest is Ohma, where the two of us are livin'."

"Is it, really?" Elincia asked. _No, stupid, he's joking. Of course it is!_ "I had not idea."

"Well, neither did we," Nephenee said and grinned. "I mean, everyone in the village knows this place, but not who was livin' there. Only that it was some 'noble lady', they said."

"Because my existence was a secret," Elincia said. "That was also why I could never leave the villa on my own."

"Now I just hafta ask," Brom said, suddenly sounding excited. "How did'ya like the tomatoes?"

"The... tomatoes?" Elincia blinked. "What tomatoes?"

"Your household is buyin' most of its food in our village," Nephenee explained. "Every couple o' months, a huge carriage comes and buys enough foodstuff for a small army!"

"They've been buyin' almost every scrap o' surplus food in Ohma for almost twenty years," Brom said. "You're not tellin' me you didn't know?"

"A huge carriage... of food..." Elincia stared at the two soldiers. "Yes, I often saw the servants unload it. But I never..." She stopped. _I never once wondered were the food came from. What did I think? That it was growing on trees? No! People worked hard for it while I had fun with Lucia and the others._

_Ah, they're staring at me! Damn it! I have to say something._

"They were delicious," she told Brom. "The tomatoes, I mean." A beaming smile came over the chubby farmer's face. "And I really mean it," she added. "There was never a green or bad one among them. You must have worked very hard for all those years."

"The queen herself ate my tomatoes!" Brom rejoiced. "And she found them _delicious. _Wait till I tell 'em that at home!" He grabbed Nephenee's arm. "And you gotta tell 'em I'm not lyin'! Come on, let's go!"

"Stay put, you dummy," Nephenee said and shook off Brom's arm. "We're still talkin' to the queen, ya know?"

"Oh, right you are." Brom looked down at his feet. "Don't mind my manners," he said. "We're just country folk, after all."

"Now _you're_ selling yourself short," Elincia pointed out. "Anyway, you're not planning on staying here for tonight?"

"Nah," Brom said. "It's just a couple of hours' walk through the forest, then we'll be home. And besides," he pointed at the villa below, "I think seein' the inside is gonna ruin the mystery!"

Nephenee scowled (Elincia suspected that the young woman would not be opposed to a small peek inside), but eventually nodded. "I'm goin' with Brom," she said. "Better not to walk through the forest alone after dark."

Elinica looked at the heavy armor the two villagers were wearing. "Well, I don't think you have to be afraid of forest beasts, at the very least," she said. "But I wish you a safe journey nonetheless. And thank you again."

"No, thank you," Brom said. "Maybe I'll send you some tomatoes to the palace some day..."

"I'll be thinkin' some more about enlistin'," Nephenee said. "Maybe if I really do it, I'll see you in Melior one of these days."

"That would be great," Elincia said. She realized that Nephenee and her had grown up at the same time and only a few miles apart, but never met until three years ago. Maybe, if she had been allowed to venture outside the villa, the self-conscious country girl could have become another friend like Lucia to her?

_It makes you realize how little influence we truly have over our own lives. Even princesses._

Elincia waved and watched the two dissimilar militiamen take a path past the villa gardens, their heavy armor suits clanging every step on the way. She realized that those two probably represented most of the soldiers serving Crimea: Ordinary villagers who fought for queen and country because they thought it was the right thing to do, or simply because they had been raised to do it. She could never know all of them by name or talk to them personally (not even remotely!), but if they thought about their queen the same way Brom and Nephenee did, it meant she had to be doing something right.

_Enough with the self-praise! _Elincia chided herself. During their conversation, the entire army had moved past them and onto the villa's grounds. The sun was touching the horizon by now, and it would not be long before darkness fell across the valley. _I have to get to the villa before that happens, or Geoffrey will have search parties out looking for me. He has enough on his mind as it is._

Elincia climbed on Atlas, who had been patiently standing nearby, and rode through the large gardens to the stables. Hundreds of knights were competing for the limited spots for their warhorses, but there was always room for the queen's mount. She lead Atlas into one of the coveted stalls, and he promptly fell asleep standing before she could even try to feed him anything.

_He's really getting old_, she thought as she made her way inside the villa. _As much as I don't like it, it's the truth. I mean, he belonged to my great-grandmother! Pegasi may live much longer than horses, but they don't live forever. I must look for a replacement in the foreseeable future._

After all, I can't allow myself to depend too much on anyone, or anything. Right?

As Geoffrey had predicted, the villa itself was extremely cramped: It was a large building, but it was sorely pressed to accomodate the many thousands of soldiers looking for a few square feet to roll out their mats. Elincia watched some pieces of furniture roughly overturned to make more room, and saw at least one valuable vase accidentally knocked over and broken to pieces, but she made no reprimands (and not just because the vase had been ugly). Many of the soldiers had already fallen asleep, even with all the noise around them, and although the men tried to make way for their queen, there often simply was no way to make.

Eventually, Elincia remembered the narrow passageways running in parallel to the corridors (designed to allow servants to move in and out of the rooms without calling attention to themselves), and slipped inside through one of the inconspicuous sliding gates. As little as a minute later, she had reached her old room, and was amazed when she found it looking exactly the same as when she had last seen it.

_The servants really were prepared for me to make an unannounced visit at any time_, she thought. _The bed is made, the clothes washed, and not a speck of dust anywhere!_

Elincia walked up to the mirror next to her wardrobe – immaculately polished, of course – and took a long look at her reflection. There had been no mirrors at Fort Alpea, so it was the first time she saw herself after Lucia's death – and was shocked to see how the events of that dreadful day had marked her. Her hair was an uncombed mess, and her light armor suit still caked with dirt and blood, but that was to be expected – it was her face that had changed, as if another person entirely was staring back at her from inside the mirror.

_Now I think I understand why they're all taking pity on me_, she thought: There were deep, dark rings under her eyes, and not the type that went away after a night's good sleep. Her mouth was set in a thin, harsh line, and when she tried to smile, she found that she could not tell the difference herself. And there was a certain haunted look on her face – the way her eyes moved slightly without her volition – that it looked as if she was reliving horrible memories every waking moment.

_A bard once called me 'Beautiful Princess Elincia'. What would that same bard say if he was here now?_

A sudden knock came from the door, and Elincia was only too happy to be interrupted in her miserable self-contemplation. "Please enter," she said, and in came Geoffrey. He was still not showing any overt signs of fatigue or stress, which annoyed her somewhat: If she was looking terrible, why not he, too? It was a childish thought, fit for a room full of childhood memories, and it almost made her smile.

"I've been waiting in the adjoining room and heard you enter," Geoffrey explained his arrival. "I wished to let you know that I'm at your service."

"You could try to be less stiff, at least in this room," Elincia said in earnest. She was not going to be bothered about her appearance – not in front of Geoffrey, of all people! He would still be her friend and her knight even if she turned into a heinous, one-eyed ogre. "Or doesn't being here bring back memories for you, too?"

"Of course it does." His eyes turned inward for a moment, and Elincia wondered what scene he was remembering now, or whether she was even in it. "Those were good times."

"Indeed they were," Geoffrey said flatly and stood there for a while longer, not speaking, merely remembering. Elincia decided to let him be for now and allowed her gaze to wander across the room; past the paintings that she had never cared about and the luster hanging from the ceiling, to the large bed that had never see her wake up soaked in sweat after a nightmare (unlike her bed in Melior) and eventually the two wooden swords hanging on the wall opposite to the bed.

_Those are the training swords Lucia and I used to spar with_. "Look at these," she said and pointed at them. "Do you remember, Geoffrey?" Geoffrey blinked several times, then looked up and grimaced.

"How could I forget, Elincia? I had to watch you two dueling for hours, because you made me judge who won."

"Lucia was always better than me, though," Elincia said. _And yet she died without even a chance to defend herself._ She pushed that thought away.

"Only in the beginning. You held the sword all wrong, and you didn't put all your strength in your thrusts, as if you were afraid to hurt her."

"But I've overcome that, haven't I?" _Of course I have, or I wouldn't have survived my first real battle. _"And when I told you I was far along to use real swords... oh, I can still hear you fussing and grating and telling me how dangerous that would be!"

"I even asked Lucia to go easy on you." Finally, Geoffrey seemed like he was relaxing a little. "Then she looked at me like this and told me you'd be very disappointed if she did that."

"Very disappointed?" Elincia raised an eyebrow. "You mean she said I'd go off pouting, didn't she?"

"Why, I... You never pouted, Your Majesty!" Geoffrey made a semblance of a pained grin. "At least not when anybody else could see."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her accusing tone was not serious.

"I recall you could be quite willful... on rare occasions." Geoffrey's eyes turned inward again, as if he was remembering one of those 'willful' moments now; not that she had any idea what he meant by this. But it was nice to see him not so uptight for once; Elincia suspected that he, too, must have trouble keeping appearances. Although she knew the value of presenting masks to other people, she had no wish to deceive Geoffrey, nor be deceived by him.

_Who knows how much he's hurting inside. And his refusal to show it probably makes it worse._

"Ahem." Geoffrey cleared his throat, back in the present world again. "May I make a suggestion, Elincia?"

"What is it?"

"I just remembered... that my sister truly loved this place,. I'm sure her fondest memories are from the time she spent here with you. So I thought, perhaps she should be buried here, in the gardens?"

"Lucia... buried..."

_Did you really need to remind me of her death?_ Elincia accused Geoffrey with her gaze, but the general did not flinch. _The matter must be addressed_, his eyes seemed to say. "It need not be now, or even soon. But eventually, her body must be put to rest."

"I understand," Elincia replied weakly. Then, louder: "And I agree. She loved this house very much..."

"...and the people in it," Geoffrey added.

"And the people in it," Elincia nodded. "Then it is settled. But the burial will have to wait a while. We must hurry back to the capital, and address the political ramifications of this crisis... such as instating you as Duke of Felirae. But we'll take the time to return and take our proper farewells from her, I promise you."

"And Count Bastian, if he returns by then," Geoffrey said. "He's sure to be devastated as well when he learns about my sister's death... even though he'll probably hide it under a fancy poem." He frowned deeply. "I'm not looking forward to breaking this news to him."

"Bastian..." Elincia whispered. She had managed not to think about him and his failed scheme for a while, but now it all came back. She was suddenly overcome with sadness and a fair bit of... was it anger?

_He only did what he thought was best for the kingdom._

_But he had no right to make that decision for me! I am the queen!_

_When he returns, I'll have to remind him of that..._

"Actually, there's something I have to tell you about Bastian." She had resolved to tell him sooner or later, and now that they were alone was probably the best time. After all, Geoffrey deserved to know, _needed_ to know – if only to make sure that Bastian would be kept on a shorter leash in the future.

Elincia shuddered at her own thoughts – Bastian was still one of her best friends! How could she think of him in such a calculating manner?

_I have to stop berating myself for seeing the world as it is_, she told herself. Bastian had chosen long ago to assume the role of political manipulator, and it was only fair that he face the consequences now.

"Yes, I thought as much," Geoffrey said. "You acted strangely whenever his name was mentioned the day before yesterday."

"And for good reason." Elincia sat down on the bed and motioned Geoffrey to sit next to her. "Let me explain..."

When she was finished explaining, Geoffrey stared at the wall blankly for a good five minutes, his only movement an occasional shake of the head. He did not say a single word.

Elincia prayed that by telling Geoffrey about Bastian's reckless scheme, she had not destroyed the friendship between the two men – or, in fact, between the three of them.

_Lucia would not want us to turn against each other in our pain. I'm sure he knows that, and so do I._

"Thank you for telling me this," Geoffrey finally said and rose from the bed. "It will probably not change anything, but it is good to know."

"Yes," Elincia said. "Knowing is always better than not knowing."

"I will be sleeping in the old guest room," Geoffrey said flatly and walked toward the door. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to wake me."

"I will not. Good night, Geoffrey."

"Good night, Elincia." And with that, he was gone, leaving Elincia to recline on the soft blanket and stare at the ceiling. She did not bother to undress, but simply lay there and stared until her mind emptied and she fell asleep.


	7. The Most Stupid Thing

**Chapter 7: The Most Stupid Thing**

The first thing Elincia did after returning to Melior was calling for a conference of the countries highest-ranking nobles, who had assembled in the Royal Palace during Ludveck's rebellion. Although they usually dawdled as a manner of principle, if only to show the queen that they were not at her beck and call, this time was different: All the seats on the long marmoreal table in the conference room were occupied a mere ten minutes after Elincia had sent out her summons, and instead of bickering and interrupting, the nobles listened to her tale with captured interest. Of course all of them had been informed about the outcome of the battle at Fort Alpea, as well as the change that had come over the queen they thought so timid, and Geoffrey's arrest of two of their peers had only served to increase their nervousness. Elincia decided that she preferred this covert fear and anxiety to their usual overblown pride and sense of entitlement.

_I'd rather have them earnest and attentive, and willing to help me govern the country without fear _or_ arrogance_, she thought after finishing her summation of the events. _But I will take what I can get._

In the end, the nobles almost unanimously congratulated Elincia for her triumph, expressed their sympathy for her personal loss (_Hypocrites, the lot of them! All of them disliked Lucia!_) and assured the queen of their unwavering loyalty. She accepted their pledges for what they were – at best, the grudging admission that the queen was not _quite _as soft-hearted as they had thought; at worst, the temporary admissions of defeat by conspirators who had been robbed of their ringleader.

"What do you intend to do with Count Arning and Duke Falnir?" one of them asked meekly. "Will you execute them, as well?"

"They have stated treasonous intentions against me in front of a reliable witness and they will face the consequences." She closed her eyes for a moment and considered the matter. "They will be given a fair trial," she declared. "But I doubt the verdict will be death, since they never actually took up arms against me. They will most likely be banished from Crimea." Her statement was accepted with silent, but relieved, nods.

_This will only teach them to watch their words more carefully in the future_, Elincia knew. _It will not deter anyone who still seeks to overthrow me._

_But perhaps fear will deter them._

"There is another matter that needs to be addresses," she said after there were no further questions. "Felirae needs a new Duke, and as the queen, I have the right to suggest a candidate. In the light of recent events, I am hoping for your cooperation and approval."

"Who is it?" a wary count asked.

"In recognition for his services rendered to Crimea, I suggest General Geoffrey."

In response to her words, most of the nobles merely nodded, as if they had expected this suggestion. Their lack of a more forceful reaction surprised Elincia. No whispering or protests at all?

_They know they won't be able to deny me today, but tomorrow may well be different,_ she cautioned herself. With a gracious smile, she looked at the sober faces on both sides of the long table and clapped her hands. "No objections? Then it's decided!" she said in an overly cheerful tone that she had never taken with the nobles before, and that would probably be taken as mockery. "General Geoffrey will be instated as Duke of Felirae at the earliest opportunity. I'm looking forward to see you at the ceremony – you will all attend, of course!"

"It will be our pleasure, Your Majesty," one of the nobles said, and the others echoed. There was not a hint of pleasure to be found in any of their voices.

_I never wanted this kind of duplicity and false language in my court. I wanted to be a different queen! _Then again, it would be childish to expect the world to cater to her wants, Elincia knew from painful experience.

Before she could think of anything else to tell the nobles, the door to the conference room was suddenly thrown opened, and a soldier stepped inside.

"Queen Elincia! I beg your pardon for the interruption, but a messenger from Gallia has just arrived in the capital. He asked to see you immediately. He said he has grave news."

Elincia almost uttered a curse – she had had her fill of grave news, thank you very much! But of course that would not do; she was the queen, and whatever crisis was on the horizon now, she would have to face it. "I'll meet him at once," she said and rose from her chair. "Please wait for my return," she told the nobles, "in case the news warrants informing you."

"Why not have the messenger speak in front of the assembly?" somebody asked.

"Diplomacy falls under the purview of the crown," she replied, already halfway across the room. "Surely you know that?"

"Of course, Your Majesty! We will be waiting anxiously for your return."

_I'm sure you will, while running your mouths loose about me. _To be a mouse in the room as soon as she was gone!

_I should bribe one of them to tell me what they're talking about afterwards_, Elincia thought as she left the room and heard the door closed shut behind her._ Why didn't I ever think of that before?_

"The messenger is in the waiting room," the soldier told her. "I'll accompany you if you–"

"That won't be necessary," Elincia replied. "I trust Gallia's envoy not to try and murder me. Don't you?"

"If... if you say so, Your Highness! I'll return to my post, then." With that, the soldier walked down the hallway, and Elincia took the opposite direction toward the waiting room, which was directly adjacent to the throne room.

_They're still fearful of the laguz. But I suppose that's better than hateful._

"I'm still young," Elincia muttered to herself as she walked. "My reign will probably last many decades. I can't expect everything to change in the first three years!"

For the time being, she accepted this debt imposed on her future self and arrived at the waiting room. The door was leaning open slightly, which prompted her to take a cautious peek inside – then she promptly opened the door when she saw who was waiting for her.

"Mordecai! Lethe!" The two laguz turned around when they heard their names being called and faced the queen as she dashed toward them.

"You're both all right!" she said when she reached them, looking happily from one to the other. "I didn't even see you after the battle!"

"We left immediately after that Duke's forces were defeated," Lethe said, a grim expression on her feline face, as usual. "There was an... incident," she hissed. Elincia immediately knew what this meant: Some Crimean soldier had said something unflattering about laguz, and rather than bring shame on Gallia by attacking the offender, Lethe had rather removed herself, and Mordecai had followed her. These kind of 'incidents' often happened when laguz were around beorc.

_It's going to take some time_, Elincia told herself again. _And the fact that Lethe left instead of starting a fight should make that person question their prejudices about laguz._

"I'm sorry that this happend right after you risked your life for Crimea," she said. "Please accept my apologies on behalf of... well, of whoever said... whatever he said." She felt rather stupid saying this, without knowing any specifics, but she did not ask for details: It was probably something about the smell of laguz, or their intimidating frenzy during combat, or something among those lines. These 'incidents' were all to similar.

"A queen should not be able to apologize for something her soldiers said," Lethe growled. "It makes no sense."

"Lethe is talking rudely again," Mordecai said. Then, with a grin, he added: "I apologize for her now." Lethe's only response was an exaggerated hiss.

"So, you two are the messengers?" Elincia asked. "But how could you make it to Gallia and back in such a short time? And why did the soldier speak of only one messenger?"

"No, it's not us," Lethe said. "We just met him on our way here." She glanced at a pillar near the wall, then at Mordecai. " We were staying in a cave near the capital, but Mordecai wanted to visit you. I told him you were probably busy, but he insisted. So I came along, to make sure he would actually get past your guards. He looks tough, but he always lets beorc walk all over him!"

"I don't like arguments," Mordecai simply said. Then a shadow fell over his face, as if he recalled the purpose of his visit. Elincia predicted what he was going to say before he said it.

"We heard about your friend Lucia," the gentle tiger laguz said. "I am very sorry for you."

"Thank you," Elincia said mechanically, having heard the same words many times before in the last three days. _And I'll hear them many times more in the future..._

"It must have happened right after we left the fort," Lethe said. "If I had not decided to leave, perhaps–"

"There's nothing anybody could have done," Elincia was quick to assure her. "She was surrounded by enemy soldiers, and... nothing short of a miracle could have saved her." She gave a short, bitter laugh. "And miracles never happen. That's the meaning of the word, after all."

"Elincia sounds very sad," Mordecai said. _Because I am!_ she wanted to snap at him, but controlled herself. "Don't worry about me," she said instead, "I'm tougher than I look."

"We can help you," Mordecai offered. "If you need help."

"Thank you," Elincia said. Then she remembered why she had originally come into the waiting room and changed the subject.

"So where is the messenger from Gallia? You said you met him on the way here, but I don't see him anywhere."

"I was exercising discretion," a deep voice rumbled from the shadows behind a pillar. "But I am here, and I have bad news – though if they are bad for Crimea remains to be seen." A large, dark figure stepped out of the shadows and walked up to Elincia, then bowed before her.

"Master Giffca!" the queen exclaimed in surprise. "I didn't even notice you there."

"They do not call him a shadow for nothing," Lethe said with something that sounded like pride. "My apologies," she said to Giffca immediately afterwards, "I was speaking out of line."

"I have been told before that I have no right to be as stealthy as I am, given my size," the shadow of the Lion King said with a hint of a smirk. "I have come to consider it a compliment."

"Your bad news, then," Elincia said.

"Gallia has gone to war," the black lion said. "King Caineghis thought you should know," he added superfluously.

"War? Against who?"

"The Begnion Empire."

Following his shocking revelation, Giffca told Elincia a tale about the return of a lost heron prince bearing a terrible accusation, followed by the formation of an alliance, a murder and a declaration of war. When he had finished, Elincia stared at him with incredulous eyes, expecting him to admit that he was, in fact, joking. He admitted no such thing. Mordecai and Lethe, who had presumably been told the same story earlier, stood silently next to the black lion as the three waited for Elincia to say something as she pondered his tale.

"That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard," she finally said. Giffca's expression did not change in response, though Mordecai grinned, while Lethe hissed and made a step forward. "Do you suggest he's lying?"

"I do not doubt the veracity of Master Giffca's words," Elincia replied earnestly. "But of all the bad reasons to go to war, this one is the worst I've ever heard. I mean, the Serenes Massacre? As horrible as it was, it has been twenty years! And Empress Sanaki even apologized," she looked at Lethe, "in place of the people who did it."

"Did you not hear the part about the Senate?" Lethe asked curtly. "The empress apologized for a spontaneous mob action, not for a calculated mass murder! This story changes everything!"

"Do you have any idea how many people will die on both sides?" Elincia asked her. "Thousands, if not tens of thousands! Is that worth the deaths of a few hundred senators?"

"Of course it is," Lethe said, while Mordecai simultaneously shook his head. "I think Elincia is right," he said, drawing an angry glare from Lethe. "The senators are bad people and must be punished, but not like this."

"Do you have a better idea, then?" Lethe asked him.

"Having no idea is better than having a stupid idea."

"Just be still for a moment, all right?" Elincia raised her hands, and the two laguz warriors obeyed, although Lethe looked rather unhappy to be robbed of an opportunity to argue. "You have been silent for a while, Master Giffca," Elincia addressed the black lion. "What is your opinion on this war?"

"My opinion does not matter," Giffca replied. "I was merely sent as a messenger by King Caineghis."

"Caineghis..." Elincia shook her head as she remembered the wise and prudent lion king. "This makes no sense! How did he agree to start such a stupid war?"

"To answer that question, Your Highness, think back three years ago," Giffca suggested. "Back then, my king did _not _start a war against Daein on your behalf, even though he wished to. Do you remember why?"

Elincia chewed on her lower lip as she tried to remember her conversation with Caineghis three years ago. The lion king had indeed been willing to give her military aid, but had been unable to do so because of...

"The Gallian elders!" she exclaimed. "They did not want to aid Crimea because they remembered slavery at the hands of beorc." She nodded eagerly, and thought that she understood Giffca's allusion now. "But this time, the situation was reversed! They forced Caineghis to go to war, because they want to take their revenge on the slave-holding senators."

"But our elders lack initiative," Giffca pointed out, almost as if he was trying to prod her. "They would not take such action without a strong driving force... someone they respect, and who has an interest in this war."

"King Tibarn," Elincia stated, and she saw in Giffca's eyes that she had guessed right. "Yes, I remember now... he was so very protective of the surviving herons."

"A noble trait," Giffca agreed. "But his protectiveness has clouded his judgement. Even though the last herons are safe in Phoenicis, he wishes to avenge the fallen of Serenes, and has appealed to Gallian anti-beorc sentiment among our elders."

"So he is the author of this war!"

"And it vexes King Caineghis greatly." Giffca frowned. "Phoenicis is a small nation. Kilvas is equally small, and an unreliable ally at best. Tibarn is using the might of Gallia as muscle to have his revenge on the Senate for wiping out the heron clan." His tone smacked of disapproval, Elincia found.

"I don't see the problem," Lethe interjected. "What does it matter whose idea it was? The Senate will be wiped out, and justice will be done!"

"It's never that easy. You know that!" Mordecai replied. Another argument was about to begin, but Elincia cut it short with an imperious gesture.

"So what is King Caineghis going to do about this?" she asked Giffca.

"There is little he can do," Giffca replied. "Our elders wield great influence and, when united, can not be easily denied. They often make the king's life needlessly difficult."

"I know exactly what you're talking about," Elincia said and remembered the countless times that the Crimean nobles had given her a headache. "So Caineghis is going to grin and bear it?"

"The Red Lion King does not whine," Giffca said. "As his only recourse, he has committed himself to winning this war as swiftly as possible. For that reason, he has sent Ranulf to hire the Greil Mercenaries, to add their might to the laguz alliance. At the time of my departure he had not yet reported back, but it is assumed that Sir Ike will heed his call."

"He probably will," Elincia agreed. "He developed a strong bond with Reyson and Tibarn during the last war. And besides, he is a mercenary. War is his business, even a stupid war." She did not mean to sound as contemptuous as she did – had she not hired Ike before, too? – but the words were out and could not be taken back.

"There is one more important thing I must tell you," Giffca said. "King Caineghis wants you to know that although there is an alliance between Crimea and Gallia, he does not expect you to join the war. Since the elders don't care much for beorc, they won't request it either."

"Thank you," Elincia said. "I'm very grateful for that. If he had requested our help, I would not... I could not have agreed to it. After all, Begnion is still suzerain to Crimea – ties that bind at least as tightly as our alliance with Gallia. We already had one stupid rebellion in Crimea... I could not sacrifice the lives of more of my people for a foolish war."

Giffca smiled slightly. "That is the reaction King Caineghis expected. He said Crimea is lucky to have you, and that he would gladly trade all of our elders for your voice of reason."

"He did say that?" Elincia felt herself blush. "That's... very nice of him." _Yes, if all government consisted of people like Caineghis and myself, Tellius would experience far less bloodshed. Too bad this is not the case..._

"I also have orders for the two of you," Giffca addressed Lethe and Mordecai. "You are to join up with the main army at the Gallia-Begnion border. King Caineghis regrets sending you into this foolish endeavour, but–"

"I don't think it's foolish!" Lethe hissed. "The Empire will never change from the inside, so we must change it from the outside!"

"I do not like it," Mordecai said. "But if the king orders it, I obey." He shook his head and sighed. "But I do not like it," he said again, more silently. "That means we have to leave now," he told Elincia.

"I, too, must return to my king's side," Giffca said. "But let me say it once again: He does not expect Crimea to partake in this war."

"And I have no intention to do so," Elincia replied. "Thank all of you for coming, and may we all meet again someday." Without much in terms of elaborate farewells, the three members of the beast tribe left the room and Elincia was alone.

_This is unbelievably stupid! What is Tibarn thinking? And Ike... he is drawn to war like a moth to the flame. I hope it won't be his downfall someday..._

With a firm shake of her head, Elincia decided to postpone such useless musings and hurried back to the conference room – after all, the nobles were going to learn about this sooner rather than later, and she would rather be the one to tell them, before rumors and misinformation spread throughout the palace.

_If I know them right, they will demand that we join the Empire. But I'll give them a piece of my mind if they dare to speak such nonsense._

Once they had been informed of the war, several among the nobles did indeed clamor for Crimea to join the war on Begnion's side, though to Elincia's relief, they did not constitute a majority. However, before she could give the minority of warmongers the aforementioned piece of her mind, the door to the conference room was thrown open once again, and another soldier – no, in fact, the same on as before – entered the room.

"Queen Elincia! I beg your pardon for the interruption... again. But here has been an incident in Fayre."

_Bastian's county! But has he even returned yet? And what does he mean, 'incident'?_ She asked the last question out loud.

"They say that fighting broke out in the count's castle, and moved on to the neighboring town. They say it was a man in black armor, who cut his way through countless guards and citizens, like a scythe cutting wheat!"

_A man in black armor? _Elincia's first thought was, of course, the Black Knight, Rider of Daein and murderer of Sir Greil. He had been spotted in Daein, alive against all reason – had he now come to Crimea to take his revenge? "Has his rampage been stopped?" she asked. She considered sending out Geoffrey and his knights – such a silly thought, for only one man. But it if was the Black Knight, such extreme measures might actually be justified...

"Yes, it has," the soldier said, then looked over his shoulder into the hallway behind him. "He was finally overwhelmed and disarmed, and captured alive. And the men who captured him, well..." He looked over his shoulder again, this time more frantically. "They said you had to see him, Your Highness. And actually... well, here they are."

The guard stepped to the side and revealed a group of five men, all of them caked with dried blood and wearing mail or plate armor, walking toward the conference room through the hallway, dragging a struggling, black-armored man along with them. For a moment, Elincia was shocked to see these men – Fayre regulars, by the looks of it – actually bring a mass murderer into her presence. Then she saw that the man's hands and feet were shackled, which was why he literally had to be dragged along, and let out a breath of relief.

"My apologies, Your Highness," the leader of the Fayre men-at-arms said when they dragged the knight into the conference room, causing the nobles to gasp in awe and fear. "But you simply must see this. Right now."

But Elincia barely heard him, because she now fully saw the subdued and shackled man. As the first soldier had said, his armor was completely black, though it was difficult to tell with all the blood on it. He wore a helmet that covered the upper half of his face, but his lips were moving, and he hissed something incomprehensible. Elincia recognized him instantly – that armor, that hissing, all of it.

It was not the Black Knight as she had feared, but close. Very close. In fact, it was one of his fellow Riders of Daein.

It was Bertram.


	8. Schemer's End

**Chapter 8: Schemer's End**

"Bertram," Elincia whispered. Then, louder: "But he's supposed to be dead! I was there when he fell!"

_But I entered Fort Pinell as soon as he was defeated_, she remembered the events of that day three years ago. _It was my first time on the battlefield, and I was feeling terribly sick. But if he survived, why did Sir Ike never mention anything? Did he himself not know?_

"He's hard to kill, Your Highness," the leader of the Fayre soldiers said; a middle-aged man with several ugly scars on his face. "Believe me, we lost many good men until we finally subdued him." Then he frowned as if he had forgotten something and saluted. "My name is Ambross. I am Captain of the Fayre county militia." He grinned wryly. "My apologies for my lack of manners, but I'm a bit out of breath. We rushed him here from Fayre as fast as we could."

"But where did he come from? And why did he appear in Fayre all of a sudden? Where has he been since the war ended?" Elincia realized that Ambross could not answer all of her questions at once, but they simply poured out of her mouth. At the table, many of the nobles echoed the same questions, all of them as surprised as the queen at the appearance of this phantom of the past.

_First the Black Knight, and now Bertram. Doesn't anyone stay dead anymore? _

_I guess I should be on the lookout for General Petrine next..._

"I think I can answer most of your questions, Your Highness," Ambross said. "But first, I think you should have a look at the man under the helmet."

Elincia looked at the former Rider once again; watched him struggle against his captors against all hope with the unrelenting strength of a crazed beast. "You unmasked him?" she asked, "and then put his helmet back on?"

"We found it wise, in order to avoid attention on our way here," the militia captain replied evasively. Elincia had no idea what he meant by this, but she found herself wondering what kind of man Bertram was – what kind of eyes were hidden behind the narrow slits of his helmet. "Very well," she said, "show me his face."

"Perhaps you should sit down first," Ambross suggested with palpable concern in his voice and pointed at the queen's orphaned chair. "You may not like what you see... not at all."

"Your concern is touching, but misplaced," Elincia replied. _His face must be horribly disfigured or something like that. But I am not going to sit down like some fragile court lady!_ "Show me his face," she repeated.

"As you wish, Your Highness," Ambross said, knelt down next to Bertram and loosened the straps that bound his helmet to his neck. The former Daein general shook his head around like crazy as soon as Ambross touched it, and the helmet came loose almost on its own, falling on the ground with a loud clattering noise. As soon as he was unmasked, Bertram screamed like a tortured man, as if the sunlight coming in through the window blinded him. He lowered his head, but Ambross seized it and pulled it upwards so that Elincia could see his face.

It was the face of man long gone mad, no doubting that: His eyes were bloodshot and darted all over the place, never focusing on anyone or anything for more than a split second. His skin was pale and damp with sweat, but against Elincia's expectation, he was not disfigured. His yelling was loud enough to almost make her cover her ears, punctuated by snarling and hissing sounds not fit for a human throat. He was truly more beast than man, and Elincia saw now why he had earned the reputation of a demon or evil spirit during his short time as a Rider of Daein. But even with all his mad ferocity, she had no idea why Ambross had wanted her to sit down – surely, he had not thought her _that_ delicate?

Overdue recognition struck her, and Elincia staggered backwards as if she had she had been hit with a sledgehammer. Had her right arm not accidentally touched the back of her chair, she would have surely fallen over backwards, so shocked was she when she realized who this feral man truly was.

"No, this can't be!" She did not know whether she was whispering or screaming the words. "This must be a mistake!" But there was no mistaking the man who had been like a second father to her; who had, in fact, played a larger part in her childhood than her actual, biological father. It was her Uncle Renning.

Ambross stepped forward and offered Elincia his arm for support, but she dismissed him with a wave of her trembling hand. She had no idea what was going on, but she would stand on her own feet, even in the fact of a sick twist of fate such as this! She pushed herself away from the chair and took a cautious step toward her crazed uncle, trying to make some sense of all this.

"Everyone said that he died during the invasion!" she said, again to no one in particular. Her ears told her that a huge hubbub had broken out among the nobles, who recognized Renning as well, but right now, she could not care less about them. "So why is he here? And why... why is he this monster?" Her uncle had stopped screaming and was talking now, but not in a manner that could possibly be understood; it was rather an incomprehensible, low hissing noise. His eyes were still darting around, and if he was remembering his niece, he gave no sign of that.

"Duke Renning's body was never found," Ambross said as he watched his queen with narrowed eyes. "Everyone assumed that Daein had taken it as a... trophy, but..." He shrugged. "I recognized him at once, as did several of my men. And now that you have identified him, there remains little doubt."

"Yes, this is my uncle Renning," Elincia said, although he looked as far removed from the person he had once been as a corpse from a living man. "Merciful Goddess... what has Daein done to him?" Without thinking, she stepped forward to get a closer look at her uncle's tortured face, but jerked back when he snapped at her like a rabid dog.

"Please, Your Majesty, I implore you to keep your distance!" Ambross pleaded. "This man is no longer your loving uncle! He's a merciless killing machine!" His throat constricted visibly. "If you had seen what he did to the people in Fayre..."

"How many did he kill?" Elincia asked.

"At least three scores, your highness," Ambross replied. "Many of them women and children. He burst out of Fayre castle all of a sudden with a sword in hand, and hacked his way to the market place, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake."

"The castle? Bastian's castle?" Things were making less and less sense. "What does any of this mean?"

"I believe I owe you an explanation," a familiar voice suddenly spoke from beyond the door, its melodious tone heavy with remorse. "One that has been overdue for three years."

"Bastian!" Elincia cried out without seeing him. Then she turned her head, and saw the Count of Fayre standing in the door, wearing a traveling cloak with its hood thrown back. His face was completely white, and his hair unkempt (unthinkable!), his expression was stricken with shame, and he could barely maintain eye contact with his queen. There was another man standing behind him, hiding in the shadow of the hallway as if he could not stand the light of the conference room. He was carrying a strange, large object in his arms – heavy, too, from the looks of it. But Elincia had no eyes for this mysterious figure, only for her old friend who had returned after many months' absence.

_It almost seems as if he's a different person now. I wonder if he already knows about Lucia..._

In another world, Elincia might have said something like 'It's good to see you alive and well!", but not in this one. Not in a world where her uncle was an insane murderer wearing the colors of Daein, and had been in Bastian's castle, of all places. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded instead.

"I will answer all your questions with utter candor, Queen Elincia," Bastian said without actually moving into the room. "But I beg that we talk in private."

Bastian's request prompted a storm of protest among the assembled nobles even before Elincia could reply.

"This is preposterous!"

"We will not suffer being excluded from this report!"

"He is trying to hide the truth from us!"

The fact that Bastian's only defense against the nobles' outraged demands consisted of a renewed plea to Elincia to let him talk to her alone spoke much about his condition: No witty rebuke to put the nobles in their place, no twisting of words and laws to have his way even against their will, merely a tired look in his eyes as he repeated his request.

"You have been hiding many things from me recently, Count Fayre," Elincia said formally. "This," she pointed at her mad uncle, "is only the most shocking, but not the most unfortunate thing you have withheld from me." A sad glint in Bastian's eyes told Elincia that he knew about Lucia's fate, and for a moment, she felt nothing but pity for him. He had loved her just as dearly as she and Geoffrey, always pursuing her affection in his loquacious, coaxing manner, and she could see that news of her death must have devastated him, enough to destroy his usual facade of supreme self-confidence.

_We all must pay the price for our wrongdoings,_ Elincia thought as she pushed away her pity. _Now it is your turn to pay, my friend._

"You will speak here, for all to hear," she declared, and with an unusually approving murmur, the nobles acknowledged her decision. Bastian nodded with barely maintained composure and finally stepped into the room, avoiding to look at Renning who had finally stopped snarling and was staring off into space.

"Your companion, too," Elincia said and pointed at the man still standing in the shadow behind the door. "Unless he has nothing to do with this, in which case he should leave now."

"I understand," Bastian said hoarsely and turned around. "Come in," he told the shadowy figure, "and bring him, too." The man did not move, though, instead replying to Bastian.

"I don't like standing in the limelight," he said, and his voice, too, sounded familiar. "This will cost you extra."

"You and your insufferable greed," Bastian barked at his companion, who seemed thoroughly unimpressed. Then he removed a jewel hanging on a pendant around his neck and threw it at the man, who caught it with one hand without dropping his strange load. "I usually only accept gold," he said, "but I'll make an exception this time."

Just as he stepped into the room, Elincia remembered the owner of that voice: Volke, assassin-for-hire, who had worked for both Bastian and Ike in the past. He was wearing drab grey clothes and at least two knives at his side, which prompted the guards to step in front of him. Volke rolled his eyes and looked at Bastian, seemingly saying: "I'd love to enter, but they won't let me." Elincia's gaze fell on the object he was holding in both arms, and her eyes widened when she realized that it was a man, bound and gagged and seemingly unconscious.

"What in the name of the Goddess is going on here?" Elincia demanded. "And who is this... this prisoner of yours?"

"I will explain everything, as I promised," Bastian said wearily. "As of right now, Volke is working for me. He takes his job very seriously, so he poses no threat to your wellbeing. Please let him enter."

"You sound very sure of that," Elincia said coldly, "but you have made mistakes in the past." Bastian opened his mouth, then closed it again; he seemed to have nothing to say in his defense regarding his misfired plan about Ludveck.

"Very well, he may stand in the far corner," Elincia said after a moment's thought. "I'm sure he prefers it that way, too," she added, recalling how the silent assassin disliked crowds. The guards obeyed and let Volke through, and he walked nonchalantly into the designated corner where he put down his captive and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Your explanation now, if you please," Elincia said after the door had been closed behind Volke. If not for her uncle's ragged breath, the room was completely silent, and Bastian began to tell his story. He had whisked away the badly-wounded Renning to his castle after the battle three years ago, and focused his efforts in trying to find a cure for him. Elincia wanted to interrupt him; wanted to scream at him and ask him why he had not told her about this for three whole years, but she kept her silence and continued to listen.

"We found out that it was a man named Izuka," he pointed at the bundle at Volke's feet, "who is to blame for your uncle's condition – among many other crimes of equal cruelty. We abducted him from Daein, and I planned to hold him prisoner in my castle until he agreed to cure Duke Renning. But during a stop at the capital to refresh our supplies, I heard of the massacre that transpired in Fayre, and knew that he had escaped somehow. I rushed to the palace as fast as I could, only to find that the good captain Ambross had already brought Duke Renning here." Bastian stared at the floor, a particularly dejected look on his face. "I know not how he managed to free himself, but it happened in my absence, and therefore, due to my negligence. I am partially responsible for the deaths he caused, and for that failure alone, I must abandon my position as count and–"

"We will talk about the consequences of your actions at a later time," Elincia cut him off. _If I know you at all, Bastian, there won't be any need to punish you – you're going to do that yourself, and better than any prison warden ever could. Although your resignation as Count Fayre is probably unavoidable._

_Damn it, why do you always have these crafty plans that you share with no one? Didn't you trust your queen – your friend?_ She wanted to ask these questions aloud, but this was not the appropriate place; in spite of her stern demeanor right now, she still wished to preserve Bastian's dignity.

"As you wish, Queen Elincia," Bastian replied obediently. "But even so, it seems clear that I have become impossible as a noble of Crimea. Therefore, I implore you – all of you in this room – to continue in your attempts to cure Duke Renning from his dread condition! Not only for his own sake, or the queen's, but all of Crimea's!"

Elincia noted some of the nobles pricking their ears when he said that – he was being patronizing again, curse him! Had he learned nothing at all from this sordid affair?

"Believe me, I would love nothing more than see my uncle restored to sanity," she said, "and I will do everything in my power to see it done. Also, I would gladly take his advice on statecraft and military affairs." She gave Bastian a deep, regal scowl. "But do not suggest that I am incapable of governing Crimea without his aid!"

"But that's it!" Bastian exclaimed, suddenly agitated. "Of course you're perfectly capable – you're exactly the queen Crimea needs!"

"Well, now that we have that established–"

"But you don't need to be queen!" Bastian interrupted her. "You don't need to do this to yourself! The three years since your ascension have been the worst time of your life! Your resolution is beyond admirable, but your condition–"

"Bastian!" Elincia said sharply. "Hold your tongue!" What was that fool thinking? Was he deliberately trying to weaken her in front of the nobles? "You are not speaking clearly, so I think it's best that you get some rest," she said and waved her hand in his direction. "As well-crafted as your words are when you compose them beforehand, they are woefully inadequate in your current state of mind."

"But I am speaking my heart, for the first time in three years! Don't you see what my plan was?" Bastian pointed at Elincia's uncle. "Before King Ramon's death, Duke Renning was first in line for the throne! If he were to be restored, he could become king, and you would have to burden yourself no longer–"

"Silence!" Elincia yelled, lunged forward and slapped Bastian hard across the face. "You idiot," she hissed in his ear, "don't you realize what you're saying?"

"Your Highness!" Several of the nobles had risen from their chairs and were protesting loudly, robbing Bastian of a chance to explain himself to her. "Count Fayre has just confessed to treason!"

"He must be put in chains immediately!"

"There you have it!" Elincia whispered angrily to Bastian. "Don't tell me you didn't see this coming!" But Bastian merely gave her a sad smile in return, which made Elincia remember her own thoughts from before: He was going to punish himself better than anyone else could.

"You fool! You did some terribly stupid things, but that doesn't mean..." She shook her head and got a hold of herself. _I can admonish him later! Now I have to act fast if I want to protect him!_

Elincia had Bastian leave the room immediately, along with Ambross and his men, her maddened uncle, as well as Volke and his strange captive. As soon as the door had fallen shut, she turned to the agitated nobles – what wondrous change had come over them, compared to their feeble demeanor from before!

_They have me at a huge disadvantage, and they know it._

"It seems clear to me that Count Bastian only kept your... poor uncle hidden under a pretext," one of them said before Elincia could decide how to begin. "He wished to overthrow you, and place him on the throne as a mindless puppet!"

"As I said before, this amounts to a confession to treason," said another noble. "I seem to recall a similar incident in the recent past... ah, yes, the case of Duke Ludveck!" The man gave her a self-satisfied smile. "I trust you will be consistent in your verdicts? Surely, Count Bastian will hang for this." Elincia had to harness all her self-control to not walk up to that slimy creature and bash his face in.

"Out of the question," she said instead, trying to keep her voice level. "The two cases cannot be compared. Count Bastian did not stage an armed rebellion!"

"Not _yet_, you mean. But it would have been the next step."

"He might even have used your poor, deranged uncle as a weapon of war, to lead his men-at-arms against you."

"There will be a thorough investigation," she tried to appease them, "followed by a trial–"

"There was no trial for Duke Felirae," she was interrupted again. "You set that precedent yourself, Your Majesty."

Elincia took a deep breath, then nodded. "Fine," she said, "no trial. A verdict, here and now." The nobles looked at her with great expectations. "Count Bastian is hereby stripped of his title and holdings, and banished from Crimea for the rest of his life." _I doubt that, in his shame, he would be staying in court even without such a verdict. So it may be just what he wanted. What a poor fool!_

But the nobles were not content with her decision – they demanded Bastian's head, citing the precedence of Ludveck again and again. _Curse that man_, Elincia thought. _His wickedness continues to plague me even after his death!_

"I have made my decision," she said loudly. "And I will now announce it to Count... to Bastian." Without heeding the nobles' protests, she walked toward the door and left the room. Bastian was waiting for her in the hallway, standing a small distance removed from Ambross and his men, staring at the floor. When he heard Elincia, he looked up for a moment, then cast his gaze downward again.

"Listen to me, Bastian," she said. "I have just banished you from Crimea. You must leave as soon as possible – right now would be best!"

"You are merciful to a fault," Bastian said sadly. "My arrogance and conceit cost Lucia her life, and robbed you of your uncle for three years All these horrible events made me realize what a buffoon I was... I'm so very sorry."

"I am at fault, too," Elincia replied. "For the last three years, I encouraged you to think of me as your friend first, and so you acted on it. But you should have thought of me as the queen." She took Bastian's hands (they were so cold!), and though he tried to wind himself out of her grip, she would not let go. "I wish we had more time, but you must leave at once, because I cannot guarantee your safety. But no matter what happened, we're not parting as strangers!"

"I do not deserve your generosity, nor your friendship," Bastian said, yet finally found it in himself to meet her gaze. Tears were welling up in his eyes. "And though my death would serve you better than my living, I accept your decision. I have friends in Begnion who will surely harbor me." He sniffed and tried to let go of Elincia's hands, which she permitted after a few painful seconds. "I shall depart immediately, taking nothing with me but the memories of better days. Farewell, my queen." Bastian turned his head in the direction of Volke, who was leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, casually resting one of his feet on his still unconscious prisoner. "Our contract is over," he called out. "Izuka belongs to her majesty. Leave him in her care, and you're free to go."

"Surely you jest," Volke replied and leaned toward Bastian. "What about my money?"

"I will take care of that," Elincia said quickly. If this Izuka character held a possible cure for her uncle, she would pay Volke any sum he named in order to get a hold of him. "I have need of this man."

"Fine with me," Volke said. "I'll be waiting right here. Talk to me as soon as you have the time." With that, he fell silent again and leaned back against the wall. Elincia turned around again to face Bastian – and saw the the former Count of Fayre had taken the opportunity to quietly slip away.

_And so I lose another friend_, she thought bitterly. _But at least he retains his life._

_Now I had better get back to the nobles' assembly – who knows what they've been plotting in my short absence!_

She walked briskly toward the door of the conference room, but stopped when she passed Ambross, his men and her uncle. "There's no need for you to stay here any longer," she told them. "Until a cure has been found, lock Duke Renning in a cell." She hesitated for an instant. "I know you must hate him for killing many of your comrades, but you must not hold it against him! As you can see, he is out of his mind!"

"I understand, Your Highness," Ambross replied. There was little sympathy in his voice, but at least no overt hatred, either. "We will escort him to the dungeon before we return to Fayre. We will make him... as comfortable as he allows us to." He saluted, and the five soldiers walked down the hallway, dragging her poor uncle behind them, which prompted him to start yelling again. Elincia quickly slipped through the door back into the conference room, as she would rather face the ire of the aristocrats than the madness of her uncle.

But to her surprise, the outrage among the nobles had vanished completely. They had all resumed their seats and greeted their returning queen with hard, calculating stares.

_Something is very wrong here. What did they talk about while I was outside?_

"Heed me well, Queen Elincia," one of the nobles addressed her coldly. His name was Alm, Duke of Kantos, the oldest of all Crimean nobles and, she suspected, once a secret supporter of Ludveck. It was clear that he had been named spokesperson in her absence. "You seem to believe that this little affair is over. Let me assure you, you are wrong."

"What do you mean by this?" she demanded.

"We do not accept this mockery of a verdict," Alm said. "And we will get you to revisit it – one way or another."


	9. A Necessary Concession

**Chapter 9: A Necessary Concession**

"Bold words," Elincia replied to Duke Alm's demand. Instead of seating herself, she slowly walked down the length of the table, overseeing the assembled nobles with a contemptuous gaze. "Not long ago, you sounded rather different – you accepted the measures I took against Ludveck so readily, I almost thought you were afraid of me."

The unflinching stares of the nobles made Elincia regret her words as soon as she had spoken them. Yes, they were afraid of her – and had turned that fear into resolve.

"We do not believe that you have truly banished your friend Bastian," Alm said. "We believe that he will continue to advise you further from exile, and perhaps return one day in some sort of guise. He has always been a crafty bastard."

Such disrespectful language! Alm did not even bother to conceal his hostility – and he was speaking for all of his peers. She did not let it show, but Elincia felt worry creep up to her even as she walked around the table past Alm's back, who continued to talk without turning around to face her.

"We have seen through your plan, Your Majesty. Remove the nobles from power one by one, until you and your cabal of personal friends like Geoffrey and Bastian can rule Crimea alone. But we will not stand for that."

"You're speaking dangerous nonsense, Duke Alm," Elincia said coldly, still not looking at the man. If he wanted hostility, he could have it. "Even though none of you has ever justified your vaunted position at this court with even a single piece of constructive advice, I appreciate the balance of power provided by the aristocracy – at least in theory. I have no intention of becoming an absolute monarch who governs by whim. I want the rule of the law."

"Really, now," Alm said mockingly. "Like when you had Duke Felirae murdered without trial?"

_You accepted that meekly less than an hour ago!_ But there was no use in saying that out loud: The nobles previous deference had turned into calculated hostility. They felt threatened, and they had found a weak spot in their queen's position, and now they attacked it with all their might.

_I underestimated the effects of fear_, Elincia realized. _It is a two-edged sword, and it can easily be turned against the one who uses it. They have closed their ranks and are ready to fight tooth and nail for their authority... and, as they see it, their lives._

She almost regretted her hasty decision to execute Ludveck, but then the strange emotion that she had felt back then returned – hatred for the man who had robbed her of her best friend, and countless Crimeans of their lives! No, Ludveck was better off dead, no doubt about that – she would deal with the consequences now, and make some necessary concessions to the nobles.

"Is this about Count Arning and Duke Falnir?" Elincia asked. Her steps had led her around the conference table once, and now she did sit down in her chair, so signalize that she was willing to negotiate. "Do you wish to see them freed and restored to their positions?" The two had supported Ludveck, but that was something she might be able to overlook, as long as it satisfied the nobles. But Duke Alm was not so easily appeased.

"Those two fell for your cheap trick: They do not deserve a place in this assembly. As long as their lives and possessions remain untouched, you may deal with them as you wish."

"Then what _do _you want?" Elincia asked impatiently. She had no time for such games! She had to get back to Volke and make Izuka work on a cure for her uncle.

"The execution of Count Bastian," the duke said.

"No," Elincia said flatly. "Think of something else."

"You don't seem to understand the situation, Your Majesty," Alm said, speaking as calmly now as an adult to a child. "We concede that you are no longer soft and naive as you used to be – at least in that regard, Duke Ludveck's death was not in vain." Alm folded his bony hands under his chin and paused for a second, as if he was remembering Ludveck, and Elincia remembered that he had been a mentor of sorts for the failed usurper.

"But the good duke effected more change in you than he bargained for – or any one of us, for that matter," Alm continued. "Each and every one of us must fear for our lives now."

"I am not out to have any of you killed!" Elincia exclaimed. "This is ridiculous!" But Alm simply ignored her protest and continued elaborating his wild suspicions.

"This whole incident in Fayre was probably planned, too, to provide a pretext for Count Bastian's removal from court – no doubt for his own safety. Duke Renning's madness is, in all probability, also pretense. How easy for him to 'escape' his dungeon once again, and commit another massacre – perhaps among the court's nobles this time?"

"You people are utterly paranoid!" But even as Elincia hurled this accusation at the nobles, she wondered again if it had not been her fault to begin with – had her rash execution of Ludveck truly frightened them so?

_Fine, I admit it: It was a mistake to have him killed without a trial. But I won't allow Bastian to pay for that mistake with his life!_

"I think I see your concerns now," Elincia said, changing her tone to be gentle and understanding, as it had been in the years before the rebellion. "And I am willing to make far-reaching guarantees–"

"Please don't insult us, Your Highness," Alm interrupted her. "All present know exactly how much 'guarantees' are worth in politics."

"I told you three years ago I was going to change the way things are done!" Elincia said, raising her voice just a bit. She remembered her speech before the assembled nobles shortly after her coronation – how hopeful and optimistic she had been back then.

_I liked that Elincia better..._

"And it was a fine speech, Your Highness." Alm gave her a condescending smile. "I believe I even applauded. But words will not reassure any of us. Only actions will."

"Then tell me one thing, Duke Alm: What kind of _actions _will you take if I refuse your outrageous request?" _I must take him head-on! He mustn't think I'm going to give in!_ "Another rebellion, perhaps? The Royal Knights would be interested to hear about that..."

Elincia's subtle threat failed to impress Alm, because the old duke only shook his head with an expression of disappointment. "You are digging yourself deeper and deeper, Your Highness. Your threats will not serve to intimidate us; instead, they will only strengthen our resolve." The other nobles nodded silently to show that Alm was truly speaking for all of them, and Elincia found herself assailed by self-doubts.

_Is he speaking the truth? Did I make things even worse by trying to intimidate them?_

_I suppose I did. I just concluded five minutes ago that trying to rule by fear is a bad idea, and I already forgot about that. What's wrong with me?_

She almost laughed out loud at her own thoughts. _There's plenty wrong with me! The rebellion, Lucia's death, news of that stupid war, uncle Renning's terrible condition, and Bastian's exile... no man or woman could take all these things in stride!_

But although this conclusion helped to preserve Elincia's self-esteem, it did nothing to solve the problem at hand: The nobles were united, out for blood, and feeling perfectly justified.

_But I still can't sacrifice Bastian for my mistakes! I already allowed Lucia to be killed by not quelling Ludveck's rebellion early. This is exactly the same thing!_

_Exactly the same thing..._

"Of course we understand your need to save face in front of this assembly." Duke Alm's unrelenting voice brought Elincia back from her thoughts to the unpleasant reality. "You already judged Bastian, and... revisiting that judgement, as I put it earlier, would spoil your new image of ruthlessness. But traveling abroad is always dangerous – bandits and cut-throats thrive in the border regions." He spoke more slowly now, carefully stressing each word. "If an unfortunate accident were to befall the former Count of Fayre on his way to Begnion, our worries would be greatly diminished... provided you present us with irrefutable proof that the accident did happen, and that it was indeed fatal."

"So you show your true colors, Duke Alm," Elincia shouted. "What about equally administering the law? What about precedence? You are out for Bastian's blood, and nothing else!"

"I am merely trying to make this easier for you, Your Highness," Alm replied, unimpressed by her outburst. "Please think about it. No one outside this room need ever know the truth."

"You are deluding yourself if you think I will have my friend murdered because of your irrational fears! So tell me again what you are planning to do if I don't follow your advice. Will you rebel against me as Ludveck did?"

"Duke Ludveck was a capable young man, but he was lacking in patience," Alm said. "The truth is, rebellion is only the most extreme means of opposing a power-hungry ruler... and far from the most effective one."

"So suddenly I'm power-hungry. Great." Elincia could only shake her head. Again, Alm paid her no heed.

"You are the queen, Your Majesty, but you cannot rule Crimea alone," he continued. "What would you do if the flow of taxes from the provinces suddenly trickled away? What if no more recruits for the Royal Knights were chosen from the nobles' personal forces? What if, Goddess forbid, some of the border provinces pledged their allegiance to the Begnion Empire and left the nation of Crimea?" The duke fell silent for a moment, allowing Elincia to imagine these scenarios. "If you are unwilling to oblige us in the matter of former Count Bastian, you might soon find out that it can be very lonely here in Melior," he concluded.

"You can't be serious!" Elincia protested. "Without taxes we cannot maintain our infrastructure. Without the Royal Knights, we cannot protect the people against bandits and foreign powers! Roads and bridges will fall into disrepair, schools will close down and thieves and swindlers will roam the countryside, if not worse!" She rose from her chair and planted her hands on the table, leaning forward toward the nobles. "Would you really do this to our country just to get back at me for killing one of your peers?" She looked up and down the table, first on the left side, then the right. She looked into the eyes of every single noble sitting with her, but none of them spoke up to contradict Alm, nor did they even show a hint of regret.

"It seems you are relapsing into your old, naive ways again, Your Majesty," Alm said, his voice brimming with condescension. "Each of us must think of ourselves first. The needs of Crimea are secondary."

Elincia had long suspected that selfishness was the guiding principle that most Crimean nobles adhered to, but she had never expected them to state it so boldly and unapologetically. "None of you are any different from Ludveck," she said icily.

"The late duke was a fine man, and would have made for a fine king indeed," Alm said. "You are complimenting us, Your Highness."

For a moment, Elincia seriously considered calling in the guards waiting beyond the door and have them arrest every single noble in this room. She could appoint royal governors to take over their duchies and counties, and Crimea would certainly be better off for it.

_But the guards come from those duchies and counties, and they may not obey my orders_, she realized. _The resulting civil war would make Ludveck's rebellion look like a schoolyard brawl in comparison. I can't do this to my people._

_But I can't allow Crimea to fall apart, either! Begnion or Daein would happily divide the kingdom between themselves, and neither are states that value their citizenry highly._

_Oh Bastian, you fool! Why did you maneuver me into this predicament? You should be required to resolve it for me!_

But he _could_ resolve it, in a manner of speaking. She only had to–

_Stop! Stop this thought right there, Elincia! This is not acceptable!_

"Ah, what a concerned expression," Alm chuckled. "We have always admired your devotion to the people, Queen Elincia... perhaps because we cannot find it in ourselves to share it." He sounded as if he was taking pride in that fact. "You already condemned one of your dear friends to death for the sake of Crimea," he continued. "What difference does another one make?" Seething inside, Elincia stared at him with open disgust, unable to say a word.

"I suppose we should leave it at that," the Duke of Kantos said and rose from his chair all off a sudden, and as one man, the other nobles did the same. "It is not required that you agree. Merely that you act." He began to walk toward the door, and the other nobles fell in line behind him. Elincia wanted to yell at them to sit down, but she feared what would happen if they ignored her.

"We expect you to take the necessary measures to defuse this... crisis of confidence in the crown," Alm said when he had reached the door, his hand already resting on the handle. "But pray take them quickly, or Bastian will be out of your reach. Oh, and naturally, nothing that was spoken here will ever leave this room. That goes for all present." With that, Alm turned his back to Elincia, slowly opened the door and strode out of the conference room with his head held high and the other nobles in tow. Once the last of them had left, the door fell shut with a soft click, and Elincia was alone.

Utterly alone.


	10. Scum of the Earth

**Chapter 10: Scum of the Earth**

On the night of the day that she had banished Bastian, a visitor entered Elincia's room without knocking. She had sent the soldiers guarding her door away so that the man would not be seen by anyone (they had protested, but obeyed). He softly closed the door behind him and walked up to Elincia who was sitting on a chair facing the entrance, trying to recreate the atmosphere of her throne room to ease her strained nerves. The man walked in complete silence (admittedly, the thick carpet made it easy) until he came to a halt five feet before Elincia.

"Thank you for coming," the Queen of Crimea said, although she had dared to hope, until the moment the door handle was pressed down, that the visitor would never arrive, finding better things to do on his way to her. But Volke was nothing if not reliable, and so he had followed the instructions of the hand-written note that Elincia had slipped under the door of his guest room earlier. _Meet me in my room at dusk. E._

"I assume it's something important," Volke said curtly. His tone suggested that if it was not something important, he would be out of the room as swiftly as he had entered.

"Well, first of all, I wanted to thank you for capturing that man... that Izuka. If he truly holds the key to my uncle's condition–"

"Your payment reached me earlier this evening," the self-styled fireman interrupted her. "I don't need your gratitude as well." He turned to leave.

"Wait, that's not all!" Elincia's outcry stopped Volke momentarily, but she knew she had to tell him why she had called him, or he would surely leave. The problem was that she desperately wished to avoid telling him.

_I made my decision earlier, now I must act on it! Beating around the bush isn't going to make it any easier!_

"I want to hire you." There. It was out.

_Oh, nonsense. I haven't even said anything yet._

But her words were enough to return Volke's attention to Elincia. "I'm listening."

Elincia took a deep breath and looked the assassin in the eyes. "As you know, I have banished former Count Bastian from Crimea today."

"I was there."

_He means: "Don't tell me things I already know. It's a waste of my time."_

"What... what do you think about that?"

"Me?" Volke raised an eyebrow. "What do you care?" When Elincia did not react to that, he shrugged and answered: "I suppose that now he'll have to pay traveling expenses in addition to my fee whenever he hires me." Elincia let out a short laugh. "So you do have a sense of humor."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was completely serious."

_Well, I shouldn't expect a man who murders others for a living to be particularly merry._

"The fact that you mention Bastian probably means that my job has something to do with him," Volke said when Elincia did not talk for a few seconds, preferring to play with her hair and look at the floor. "Although I wonder what..." He suddenly frowned and eyed Elincia more intensely. She tried to match his gaze, but could not, and continued staring at the floor again.

"You don't mean to say that my target is..." Volke left the rest of the sentence in the air, and Elincia was almost grateful for it. _That means I don't have to actually say it._

_Oh, what a hypocrite I am! Saying or not saying it makes no difference at all!_

"As expected, you can add two and two," Elincia said haughtily. "Not surprising for someone who has to count as much gold as you do." Right now, she hated herself so much that she simply had to lash out at someone, and Volke was the only available candidate. Fortunately for her, he was most likely a stranger to the concept of ' being offended'.

"Count me surprised," the grey-clad assassin said after having his suspicion confirmed. "I think I misjudged you when I first met you three years ago."

"Oh no, Volke, you judged me correctly," Elincia said. "But I have changed since then."

"It happens to people." For a moment, there seemed to be a hint of sympathy in Volke's voice, but Elincia was sure she was mistaken. "So, will you do it?" she asked with a heavy heart.

"Hm." Volke put his hand to his mouth and drew on an imaginary pipe. "A difficult decision."

"Don't tell me you're having scruples," Elincia said with a very short and very false laugh.

"Oh, silly." For a split second Volke smirked. "No, it's just that Bastian hires me often and always pays on time. There'd be huge hidden opportunity cost in taking him out."

_I can't believe that we're actually talking about this! I can still send him away! I have to!_

But Elincia did not send Volke away.

"I understand your concerns," she said instead, although she could not truly claim to understand how Volke's mind worked. "But consider that I may offer you other..." She gulped and closed her eyes for a second. "...employment opportunities in the future." Why was she using these euphemisms? "The coffers of Crimea are greater than those of Fayre."

"You're appealing to my greed. I like that. But are you willing to back up your words with coin?"

"State your prize, assassin."

"One hundred thousand," Volke said after a moment's thought.

"Accepted," Elincia said curtly, without showing a second of hesitation. It was a ridiculous sum, but she knew she would pay a far greater price for Volke's 'job' than mere gold. And besides, she had impounded Bastian's considerable family fortune earlier today. In a manner of speaking, he would be paying for his own assassination. The thought made her shudder.

_Goddess, what have I become?_

"I'll get to work then," Volke said calmly, as if he had been tasked with swatting a fly. "Have the money ready by the time I return." Again he turned to leave, and again Elincia's outcry stopped him.

"Wait!"

"What now?" This time, he spoke without turning around.

"Don't you... want to know why?"

Now he did turn around, and he bore a confused expression. "What 'why'?"

"Why I want to... why you..." She could not bring herself to say it. Volke looked at her quizzically and asked: "Is there a need for me to know? I wouldn't think so..."

"No," Elincia said, "it's just..." She did not continue. Why did she want him to ask? She was not sure herself.

"Ah, I see," Volke said, his voice strangely understanding. "You want to ease your conscience by telling me." She nodded in confirmation. _Yes, that's probably what it is._

"It's a common thing with first-time employers," Volke said casually. "They desperately want to justify themselves." He gave her a semblance of a grin. "They seem to believe that I will think less of them if I don't know their motives. What nonsense."

What he said made sense to Elincia. After all, this was far from his first... 'job', and the stories of desperate self-justification probably all sounded the same to him by now. "Will you listen, anyway?" she asked.

"Five thousand," he replied at once. "Ten thousand if you start crying during your tale."

Once again, Elincia had to laugh at Volke's black humor-that-wasn't-humor. Oh yes, she was going to cry. She could already feel it...

"You _really _dislike human interaction, don't you?"

"I have my reasons." He shrugged. It was a casual shrug, but those often hid the deepest secrets.

" I wonder how much gold I would have to pay to hear these reasons," Elincia said idly. She was surprised when in response, Volke threw back his head and laughed.

"That prize is beyond the reach of just one kingdom. The gold of all of Tellius would barely be enough for me to reveal my... my story." He shook his head and his laughter turned into chuckling. "Ask me again when you've conquered the continent."

"I have no intention of conquering–" Elincia protested, but Volke cut her short.

"Of course not. No conqueror ever admits that."

"Is that really what you see in me?" she leaned forward in her chair, aghast that Volke would call her something like that. "A conqueror?"

_A murderer, surely. There can be no denying that after tonight. But a conqueror... that's what Ashnard was, and I have not sunk that low!_

"I think you could be one," Volke nodded. "Call it a gut feeling."

"You don't strike me as a man with gut feelings," Elincia said, desperate to turn the conversation away from herself. "Or any feelings, for that matter." When Volke did not react to this slight, she could only shake her head. "I think the only way for you to be offended would be if somebody paid you for it."

"We all have our buttons," Volke said mysteriously. "It's just that nobody has ever pushed mine. But you wanted to talk about your motives."

"I changed my mind," Elincia said quickly, because she feared what other things Volke might see in her if they talked long enough. He was an expert in depravity, and she was not eager to hear a more extensive assessment of her character out of his mouth. "I don't want to talk anymore."

"Suits me," Volke said. Then, after a few seconds of waiting: "Then I'll be off now." He turned around and made for the door, but stopped before he had reached it and turned around one last time. "Ah, I almost forgot. What kind of proof do you want? Head only, or the whole body?"

"I... I..." Elincia suddenly felt sick. "Whatever works for you," she said and waved the assassin away. She watched him shrug and leave her room, closing the door behind him.

_It is done._ She buried her head in her palms, but that only made her angry at herself. _I'm feeling self-pity, after what I just did? _She clenched her hands into fists and dug her fingernails deep into her palms._ Pathetic._

"But I never asked to be a murderer," she said to herself. "Just as I never asked to be a queen. Why do I have to go through this?" But there was nobody with her to answer that question.

_Lucia, are you watching me from somewhere? If so, you must be disgusted with me. But for the good of Crimea, I must sacrifice Bastian as I have sacrificed you._

"Sacrificed!" Elincia spat on the carpet. "That's not the right word! It should be 'murdered'!" She walked in front of the room's mirror and stared at her reflection as she had done yesterday night in the royal villa. Back then, her self-pity might have been justified, but not now. The hideous figure in the mirror was worthy of nothing but contempt. She grabbed her nail file, put it against her forehead, and considered scratching the word 'murderer' into her skin.

_Please forgive me, Bastian! I do not deserve it, but please forgive me, I beg of you!_

She threw the nail file against the mirror, making an ugly crack in the glass. _Stupid! If Volke does his job right, he won't even realize what's going on before... before..._

With an anguished wail, Elincia threw herself on her bed and sobbed, sobbed until her eyes hurt and her pillow was drenched. Then she dragged her blanket over her head and whimpered silently, like a little girl, for somebody to come and help her. Somebody to make her forget the terrible thing she had done. Somebody to hold her and tell her that it was all right.

"Geoffrey!"

Without thinking, Elincia leapt out of her bed and staggered toward the door, her vision so blurry from the tears that she had to feel her way with both arms. She found the door, and an instant later, she was standing in the hallway, which was thankfully still devoid of guards as per her earlier directive. Geoffrey's room was on the other end of the hallway, only a few dozen feet away, and yet she tripped twice on her way there, the second time falling flat on her face. But Elincia paid no attention to the pain as she struggled to her feet and continued on her way, so desperate was she to throw herself into the arms of the only person who would accept her unconditionally. Without encountering another soul, she reached the door of Geoffrey's room and knocked meekly.

_Please don't be away, Geoffrey! I need you now! Please!_

"Come in."

Elincia did not try to wipe her face dry, or hide the tell-tale signs of her despair: Not only would it have been futile, she also knew that she could not hide her feelings from Geoffrey. All she did was wipe her eyes dry so that she would at least be able to properly see him and entered the room.

Geoffrey was sitting on his bed with his sword lying on his knees and an oil-smeared piece of cloth in his hand when she entered. No doubt he had been wiping the blade clean, even though it was probably not even dirty, diligent to a fault in all things.

"Elincia!" he said and put the sword down at once. "How can I– " He stared at her with his mouth open. "What happened?"

"Geoffrey!" Elincia cried and flung herself at him, taking even a battle-hardened veteran such as him by surprise. "Oh Geoffrey, please help me. Please!" She wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her face against his chest. Again she started sobbing and was surprised that she even had any tears left to shed. "I can't go on anymore!" she cried weakly.

"Elincia, please calm down!" Geoffrey tried to stand up and pull her along with him, but she dragged him down with all her strength. "Don't!" she cried fearfully. "Don't push me away!"

"I'm not pushing you... Elincia, please tell me what's going on!" He gently put his hands against her cheeks and tried to make her raise her head. Confusion was written all over his face, as was fear: Fear of what had reduced his queen to a sobbing shadow of a woman.

_I mustn't tell him!_ Elincia thought feverishly. She had not consulted with Geoffrey before making her vile decision – that would only have sullied his hands, too. No matter what happened, he must never learn of what she had done today, or he would never look at her again with anything but contempt.

"Geoffrey," she cried again and put her trembling hands against his cheeks. His skin was rough with stubble, but warm: It was the first time she had felt warmth after her life had been irrevocably changed three days ago, and she was not going to let him go. "I need you," she said and caressed his cheeks. "Please, be there for me."

"I'm always there for you," Geoffrey said, clearly uncomfortable with her touch. "But if you don't tell me what happened, then I can't help you!"

"But you can," Elincia said and pressed her lips against his. She had never done that before, but every fiber of her weary body screamed at her to do it. Geoffrey's eyes widened when she kissed him, but he did not push her away, and that was already enough. She stroked his hair with one hand and slipped the other under his shirt and against his she allowed herself to drown in his clear, blue eyes.

Even in her condition, Elincia was queen enough to know that what she was doing was beyond inappropriate, but she did not care: She needed somebody to drive out the feelings of disgust and hatred against herself, to affirm that she was still a human being, capable of love and not only depravity. And Geoffrey was the only one who could do this for her.

"Elincia!" His voice reached her as through a strong haze. "Elincia, stop this! Please!"

"What are you saying?" she murmured. Her voice sounded like that of a woman in trance, but she saw nothing wrong with that. "Don't you want this, too?"

"Elincia, get a hold of yourself!" Again Geoffrey tried to rise from his bed, and this time, she could not hold him down: She was pulled up along with him, clutching his chest, and felt an onset of anxiety. Was he trying to push her away after all? No, surely not Geoffrey!

"Please don't talk," she whispered and attempted to pull him back toward the bed, but he stood firm and immovable like an oak. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Do you hate me?"

"Hate you?" Geoffrey shook his head in shock. "Elincia, I... I love you, in every meaning that the word could possibly have." He looked surprised at his own confession, but he did not retract it. "If... if you had... approached me under other circumstances, then I would be honored to..." His words trailed off as he looked at the floor, embarrassed. "But not like this!" He seized her shoulders and shook them while looking intently in her eyes. "I don't know what happened to you, but you are not of sound mind!"

"Please don't talk," Elincia begged. She knew that this was not how she was supposed to sound, but she could not help it. "Please, love me!" she cried and tried to embrace Geoffrey again, but he kept her at an arm's distance.

"That would not help you," he said firmly. "It would weaken you. And weakening you is the only thing I will never do."

Elincia heard his words, but she did not understand them. Why was he pushing away? Why was he saying he loved her, yet refused to love her? Could it be that...

"You know!" she cried out and tore herself away from Geoffrey, crashing backwards into a table. "You know!" He made a step toward her, talked to her, but she did not understand a word and moved backwards toward the door. _Somehow_, he had learned about Bastian!

_It must be my face! Oh goddess, it must have written 'guilt' all over it!_

_I'm sure everybody can see it written there, not just Geoffrey... _

_Murderer!_

With a shriek, Elincia turned around and fled Geoffrey's room, barging toward her own room as fast as she could, covering her face with her hands as she ran. She had no idea what she was going to do now, but she had to get away from Geoffrey, away from everyone who would lay eyes on her.

"Elincia!" Geoffrey's hushed voice sounded behind her. "Stop! Please!" But she did not stop: She ran into her room, slammed the door shut behind her and turned the key, threw herself on her bed and crawled under the blanket. "Go away," she whispered, although she knew that Geoffrey could not hear it even it he was standing right outside her room. "Please go away. Go away..." She heard Geoffrey knock against the door and call her name, but she covered her ears until the sounds stopped, until he was sure that he had given up.

_I am so vile that even Geoffrey rejected me_, she told herself in the darkness beneath the blanket. _And rightly so! He's a virtuous knight! He should have nothing to do with someone as base and ignoble as me, who threw herself at him like a harlot, her hands red with blood! It would be better for him if he never looked at me again! It would be better for him if I just died!_

_It would be better for _everyone_ if I just died!_

Elincia had a sudden vision of herself impaled on Amiti, the world rid of her and she rid of the world. But as appealing as that vision was, she could not make it come true: Her sword was not in this room, and nothing on earth would be able to make her open the door and face Geoffrey again. She could not even pick up her nail file from the floor and slit her wrists, because that would have required her to crawl out of her hiding place under the blanket, and that was not something she could do right now.

_Too vile to live, too pathetic to die. I hate myself._

_I hate myself._

In the darkness of her hiding place, Elincia repeated that thought until merciful sleep granted her oblivion.


	11. Deal with the Devil

**Chapter 11: Deal With the Devil**

When Elincia awoke on the next morning, she was relieved to notice that she was sane again. The benevolent magic of sleep had driven away all traces of last night's guilt-induced hysteria, and though she still considered herself beneath contempt, her self-loathing had taken on a more sustainable shape: No longer did she desire to kill herself, or flee the country, or attempt any other form of escape from what she had done. Instead, she would continue on as queen, and hate herself for what she had become at the same time: Not a massive conflagration of rage, but a small flame that would burn forever.

_I can't stop now_, she told herself as she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling while the morning rays of the sun warmed her. _For the sake of all whom I've sacrificed, I must continue on forever, until the day I die. And to atone for my sins, day after day._

"Enough," Elincia said out loud and got up from her bed. She had no right to wallow in self-pity, not while there was work to do - and there was always work to do for the queen. Determined not to think about things that could not be undone, she quickly changed into fresh clothing, washed her face and tried to make herself presentable. The last was a bit of a futile effort, a glance in the mirror told her: Her eyes were burning red, and the dark rings below had not diminished a bit since Lucia's death; by now, they were certainly a permanent facial feature of hers.

_It may be better this way. At least like this, nobody will be fooled into thinking a queen's job is easy... or that I'm happy. And it's not like anybody cares about my appearance anyway._

Elincia randomly thought of Geoffrey, and shuddered when she imagined what he might be thinking of her after last night's disgrace. Of course he had not seen her guilt written on her face – that had been her imagination, caused by her hysteria – but he must be wondering what was wrong with her. And then there was her pathetic attempt at seducing him – him, the most virtuous of all her knights! Would he be thinking less of her for that?

_Well, he should. I guess I'll just have to pretend that it never happened. Knowing Geoffrey, he will never mention it in a hundred years, for fear of hurting my feelings._

But for all her self-assurances, Elincia feared that she had pushed away the last remaining of her oldest, dearest friends. Part of her wanted to seek him out and talk to him right now, but the mere thought almost made her shudder with embarrassment. She was going to see him soon enough in his function as commander of her knights; no need to rush into what was surely going to be an extremely awkward encounter. After all, she had things to do.

It was still early in the morning, perhaps half an hour after dawn, and court business would not begin for at least another hour, so Elincia had time to deal with an urgent personal matter. Without eating breakfast (a general feeling of nausea had taken hold of her body, and she doubted it was going to go away anytime soon), she descended into the dungeons below the the palace, accepting the guards' surprised (and slightly sleepy) salutes with a short nod. She found the two prisoners who she wished to see in cells directly adjacent to each other; not an arrangement she would have preferred, but she was not going to make a fuss about it right now.

Her mad uncle Renning was sleeping unsteadily, lying not on his pallet but on the cold, hard floor of the dungeon. Between hissing breaths, he mumbled incoherently (Elincia thought she heard the word 'kill' at least twice), and his hands clasped and unclasped in irregular intervals, as if he as choking somebody in his dreams. Elincia decided not to look at him too closely; she could do that _after _he had been cured.

The man who, for the moment, was her best hope for restoring her uncle, was sleeping in the neighboring cell; unlike Renning, he was lying on his pallet. Elincia observed the strange character named Izuka for a short while, since she had not been able to pay much attention to him when he had been lying gagged at Volke's feet.

_Volke. I wonder where he is right now. Could he already..._

"Stop this," she murmured. "I have unleashed the arrow, and no one could pick it out of the air before it hit its target. What is done is done." She forced herself to look at Izuka again, noting the man's strange appearance for the first time. That large forehead, the long hair, and the large eyes that were rapidly moving beneath the lids as he dreamt of who-knew-what certainly made him look like the insane, evil genius Bastian had described him as. In the service of mad King Ashnard, he had used poison and torture to twist countless laguz into a state of everlasting transformation and insanity... and he had turned her uncle Renning into the bloodthirsty Bertram.

_If he holds the cure, I will extract it from him_, Elincia was convinced. _Carrot or stick, I care not... though he won't go unpunished for what he did to uncle Renning, no matter how cooperative he may be!_

"Izuka!" she called out the naturalist's name. "Izuka, wake up! Now!" When he did not wake, she repeated her call more forcefully, but there was still no reaction. Elincia considered calling the guard to wake him, but she spotted a small piece of stone on the ground where it had fallen from the ceiling. She picked it up and threw it through the iron bars at Izuka's large forehead, and registered with satisfaction that it hit its target.

"Aouch!" Izuka cried out and flailed his arms in defense, his eyes still closed. "Wake up!" Elincia said a third time, and the strange man rolled over on his pallet and hit the cell floor with a dull sound, waking him instantly.

"What...?" he asked and rubbed his head with one hand, his eyes with the other. He turned his head around rapidly, looking for his assailant in the dim dungeon. "Who dares visit such indignities upon my famed genius?"

"Shut up and look at me, Izuka," Elincia said. She was not in a mood for playing around, and she hoped that her prisoner would realize that soon, for his own sake. "I am the Queen of Crimea, and the one who holds your life in her hands."

"Crimea?" Izuka crawled toward the bars on his hands, and his eyes bulged out at her. "So you have ordered my abduction! Has your lowly peasant nation forgotten the last time it incurred Daein's wrath?"

"Everybody in Daein thinks you're dead," Elincia lied spontaneously – though it might actually be true. "So don't expect anybody to come for you." She decided to let him believe that she had been behind his abduction; no sense in letting him know about Bastian's unauthorized action.

"Ah-h... what a predicament I find myself in!" Izuka dragged himself up on the iron bars and dusted off his purple robes, assuming a position of insulted dignity. "I suppose you will make me work for you now?" He smiled an arrogant smile. "So even a peasant queen like you could see my genius."

"Do not mock me, monster," Elincia said between her teeth. "You probably have heard stories about how soft-hearted that peasant queen is, and think yourself safe from bodily harm." She stepped close to the bars and glared at the prisoner. "Let me assure you, these stories are outdated."

"Ah, yes," Izuka said, sounding quite unimpressed, "you are quite angry at me, for turning your uncle into a research subjects. But your anger is baseless, if you look at it rationally. The tides of war washed up a powerful warrior for me to use... the first one strong enough to survive my feral serum!" He looked at Elincia with rapt eyes. "Exploiting this opportunity was the natural thing to do! I'm sure you can see that it was nothing... personal."

_Is he trying to provoke me, or does he actually believe this?_

_Well, Bastian described him as egocentric to the point of mania, so I guess it's the latter._

"In fact, you should be grateful to me," Izuka rambled on. "My serum made your uncle even stronger than he was before. Admittedly, the cost was his sanity, but sanity is overrated, wouldn't you say?"

The only thing that reined in Elincia's anger at Izuka's words was her amazement at his sheer gall. Here was a man who bragged in her face about his vile 'accomplishments', who even demanded _praise_ from her, even though she could have him tortured or executed at any time! Clearly, his sense of self-preservation had taken leave of him long ago.

_Which makes things more difficult for me. Threatening him with death probably won't do much good – he'll tell me I'm bluffing, because nobody would dare destroy such genius as his!_

"Be that as it may," Elincia said, "do you want out?"

"Do I..." Izuka stared at her. "Are you daft, woman? Of course I want out! But you are the one holding the keys! You are the one depriving the world of Izuka! How can you ask–"

Feeling that her patience might run out soon, Elincia interrupted his rambling.

"Your freedom for my uncle's cure," she said. "That's my offer."

"Wha-what?" Izuka made a startled step back. "Undo my greatest work? You cannot ask this of me!"

"I just did."

"Hm. Very well, you did. A scientific mind like mine cannot deny that fact!" Izuka began pacing up and down in his cell, and Elincia's eyes followed him own their own accord in his maddening walk. "What a terrible price to pay for my freedom! Destroying my finest achievement!"

"You really have no choice," Elincia told Izuka. "If you don't comply, you'll spend the rest of your days in here."

"No one can contain my genius for long!" Izuka said, staring at her again.

"We can put that to the test, if you like," she answered dryly. "I am a patient woman."

"Bah, you young people have no idea about patience! If you had any idea how many failed attempts it took me to perfect my serum... how much anguish I had to endure before my triumphant success!" The mad naturalist looked truly agonized; more proof for Elincia that he was not of sound mind.

"I can always ask the herons to sing the Galdr of Rebirth for him, you know," Elincia told him. "If I do that, you will lose your only bargaining chip, and will never be able to purchase your freedom."

"Bah! Those galdrar... children's songs!" Izuka shook his head vehemently. "They will never work!"

"They worked on Rajaion," Elincia pointed out.

"That... was different! He was a sub-human!"

"Laguz," Elincia said almost automatically, but the word lacked its usual sharpness. Who cared what words this madman was using, anyway?

"Since you won't agree, I'll have my uncle ferried to Phoenicis immediately," she said, although she would rather not make good on her threat: Revealing Renning's horrible state to the herons would certainly demean him in their eyes – although the news could probably not be contained, anyway, seeing as several Fayre citizens already knew about it. Still, she wished to spare her uncle any further humiliation – it would be difficult enough for him to resume his old life as it was.

"No, wait!" Izuka called out, suddenly nervous. "Don't do it!"

"You can stop me with but a few words," Elincia teased the self-styled genius. "I'll – cure – him."

Izuka suddenly stepped forward and pressed his head against the bars of his cell, staring at Elincia with bulging eyes. She almost recoiled, but stood her ground: He was a harmless prisoner, after all, unable to hurt her. He inspected her for several minutes, while she tried not to push him – he might be willing to agree, after all!

"You think Izuka a rambling fool!" he suddenly shrieked. "You think you can deceive me! Take the cure and leave me to rot in here, or simply kill me, that's what you want!" He pointed at Elincia with both of his long index fingers. "But I see through you, queen of peasants!"

"Your words wound me," she replied. "Have you not heard the stories about just and fair Queen Elincia?"

"Those stories may be... hm...outdated."

"You'll have to take that chance." Internally, Elincia was already debating whether she should have Izuka executed or merely imprisoned forever – there was no way she was going to let this monster roam free again, that much was certain. And not only because of her uncle – countless laguz had been brutally tortured to satisfy his morbid curiosity, only to be slain at the hand of the Crimean army and the Greil Mercenaries.

_I wonder what King Tibarn would do if he knew Izuka was here. Would he stop his foolish war to come here and try to tear him apart?_

_Hm. He probably would come, but leave the war in the hands of Ike or somebody else. So there's no point in ever telling him, I suppose._

"Oh the humanity!" Izuka cried out – a strange thing for such an inhuman creature to say, Elincia thought. "I'd rather be the one to destroy my own work," he announced, "than those herons with their lullabies!"

"So you agree?" Elincia asked, just to make sure.

"Yes! Though it breaks my heart, I will... 'cure' Bertram."

"Renning!" As long as there was still hope, Elincia would not suffer her uncle being called by the name of that monster.

"What's in a name?" Izuka shrugged. "Anyway, I will require many things... many ingredients! I'll need a large roll of parchment just to list them all!" There was a strange glint in his eyes – perhaps his normal show of enthusiasm? He looked as if he had utterly committed himself to his course and would follow it no matter what, with feverish intensity and little sleep.

_So this is the look of 'genius'_, Elincia thought, and decided that she did not like it.

"I'll make the necessary arrangements," she said. "Once my uncle recovers, you will be set free." She narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. "But do not try to deceive _me_, either," she warned him. "I knew my uncle well – do not try to fool me with some half-measures! Only full restoration of his mind will buy your freedom!"

_It is all right to lie to scum like this_, she told herself. _He tortured and murdered countless innocents. He deserves nothing better._

"It will be... mmmh... my greatest challenge!" Izuka rejoiced. "To undo the work of the greatest genius alive... my own genius will have to double! No, triple! No..."

"Spare me your egomaniacal ravings," Elincia said and turned to leave. "I'll send someone to provide you with the things you need. Oh, and don't try to use them in an attempt to escape – the guards are under orders to kill you before that happens."

"Escape? How unbecoming." Izuka waved his hands in the air. "A genius of my caliber will walk out of this cell with his head raised high, or not at all!"

_Then 'not at all' it will be_, Elincia thought and left without another word. She peered at her uncle on her way out, but he was still asleep and mumbling, unaware of the exchange that had taken place.

_Please hold out, uncle Renning. I'll see you cured, I promise you!_

Taken with a momentary bout of optimism, Elincia left the dungeon and climbed the stairs leading back to the palace – only to have her good spirits driven away by the sight of the one man whom she currently hated most in all the world.

"Duke Alm," she acknowledged the old noble without a hint of warmth in her voice. "What a surprise to see you here, loitering around in the palace corridors."

"Ah, Your Majesty," the duke said with false politeness. "Up so early. It pleases me to see that your zeal to serve the people has not been diminished." He pointed at the stairs Elincia had just climbed. "I was told by a servant that you had lowered yourself into the dungeon... to visit your crazed uncle, no doubt. I did not wish to disturb your private moments, and awaited your return here."

"How considerate of you."

"I always try to mind my manners," Alm smiled. "Call it old-fashioned." Elincia wondered how he would react if she were to bash his teeth in. "Now, about the matter we discussed yesterday," he continued, "I hope you made one of your, ah... quick decisions."

"I have taken the measures you suggested," Elincia said icily. "You will have your... proof... as soon as it arrives."

"That pleases me greatly, Your Majesty," Alm said, still smiling. "I'm glad to see that we have re-established a working relationship. May it stay like that for a long time." Without a bow or a word of farewell, he turned around and walked down the hallway, his gaunt, white-robed body swaying ever so slightly as he moved

_To think that such a frail old man could make me murder one of my best friends!_ But as long as Alm and the other nobles held Crimea's welfare hostage, there was nothing Elincia could do to avenge Bastian.

_But make no mistake: If the opportunity ever presents itself, I'll see every single one of you selfish monsters hanged!_

To her surprise, Elincia noted that indulging in such violent imagery did not bother her in the least. As long as the nobles had pretended to have good intentions, she would never have thought like this, but after showing their true colors to her yesterday, she did not even consider them fully human anymore.

_And that's why I'm still better than them, even though I sentenced Bastian to death! At least I still have good intentions... and the ends may justify the means after all._

Elincia realized that she had started walking and was heading for the throne room, probably out of habit. It was still too early for her to meet any courtiers there, but she decided to go anyway – merely sitting on the throne of her father often served to renew her sense of purpose, especially in times of crisis.

However, when she entered the throne room, she did not find it empty: A tall, blue-haired knight was standing in front of the empty throne, his head lowered, his back turned toward the door.

_Geoffrey!_ Elincia froze on the threshold when she saw him. _He can't see me now! He... I..._

She must have made some noise, or maybe Geoffrey just had sensed her presence, for he turned around and looked at her with a compassionate expression. Elincia almost fled the room in shame before she decided to stay and face Geoffrey – she could not very well hide from him in her own palace. She had embarrassed herself in front of him, and now she had to deal with that like an adult, not try to evade him until he had forgotten about the incident.

_And didn't he say he loved me?_ Elincia asked herself as she walked toward Geoffrey, trying to smile. _Or was that just my imagination? _She had not been exactly rational at that time, so she decided not to trust her memory in that regard. _But he doesn't look disgusted right now, either... then again, it would be like Geoffrey not to show it._

Ah, this is maddening!

"Good morning, Elincia," Geoffrey said. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she said simply. No use denying that she had been feeling rather... unwell yesterday. "What are you doing here so early?" she asked.

"I only wanted to be alone for a moment, and the throne room was empty," Geoffrey replied. " One of the guards just told me about Bastian," he added with some hesitation, then closed his eyes and sighed wearily. "I don't know what he was thinking, hiding Duke Renning from you... from all of us, for three years!"

"Don't worry about it," Elincia told him. "It's all in the open now, and that's what counts. And my uncle may not be beyond help." She decided not to tell him about Izuka at this stage – no sense in getting his hopes up.

"Anyway, I understand why you had to banish him," Geoffrey continued, "and I support your reasoning... even though it saddens me that I did not have the chance to meet him." He sighed again. "I only just realized that I will probably never see him again."

Elincia had to avert her head when he said that, because unbidden tears welled up in her eyes. Geoffrey had no idea how true his words were.

"I'm sorry," her knight quickly said when he saw her tears. "I didn't mean to–"

"Oh stop it, Geoffrey," Elincia admonished him. "You don't have to carefully choose your words around me. Please, always speak your heart when you talk to me." _At least one of us should be able to do this, and I cannot – I can never let you know. I'm sorry._

"I understand," Geoffrey said and nodded. "When I learned about Bastian, I realized why you were so upset yesterday." He hesitated again. "I hope I didn't seem unsympathetic. Or overly abrasive. Or–"

"Oh, Geoffrey!" Elincia laughed even while she was crying. He _He _was actually feeling guilty for rebuffing her childish advances! How typical of him – and how sweet.

"You did exactly what you should have done," she reassured him. "I wasn't thinking straight."

"Yes, you do that sometimes," he quipped, which made her laugh again. To think that she had been afraid of Geoffrey just a minute ago – how foolish! He was not the kind of man to shun her after one silly escapade.

_Though he probably would shun me if he knew about Bastian – and that's another reason he may never learn my horrible secret, so I can at least retain him as a friend._ More than that, Elincia dared not hope – she had forfeited her right to happiness forever. She would probably marry one of the lesser (and less contemptible) nobles one day, if only to produce a successor to the throne – but that was still a long way off.

"I had better go now," Geoffrey told her after they had conversed for a few more minutes. "I've also been told about the war between Begnion and the laguz, so I want to ride out to the border region and caution the scouts there to be watchful, just in case the front line moves close to Crimea."

"It had better not," Elincia said with a frown. "Our country has suffered enough – let them fight it out in their own homes."

"Harsh, but fair," Geoffrey nodded. "Then I bid you farewell, Elincia." He bowed and departed from the room, leaving Elincia to lower herself on the throne as she watched the door close behind him.

Her heart nearly stopped when a throat was suddenly cleared somewhere behind the throne.

"Ahem. Now that we are alone..."

"Who–"

Elincia jumped and backed off toward the door, away from the voice in the dead angle behind the throne. But before she reached the door, the owner of the voice stepped into her field of vision.

It was Volke.

"It's only me," he said. "No reason to panic. I never announce myself to my victims – that would be self-defeating."

"How... how did you get in here?" Elincia asked, her heart racing. "Where you behind the throne all the time?"

"No, I arrived two minutes ago. But I thought I should wait until your general had left. Discretion, you know."

"But I had the door in my sight the whole time!" Elincia protested.

"I don't always travel by conventional means," Volke shrugged. "Don't waste time worrying about it."

Elincia would have liked to inquire about the fireman's 'unconventional means', but the linen sack that he was carrying over his shoulder suddenly caught her eye. It was not very big, just large enough to contain a... a...

"Don't tell me you already finished your job," she said hoarsely.

"You make it sound like a bad thing," Volke said, raising an eyebrow. "But yes, I did. Found him sleeping in a wagon just outside of Melior. Apparently he didn't get too far."

Elincia felt her throat constrict. _This is what I wanted! _she told herself. _No, not what I wanted. But what I commanded. It makes no difference._

"So... this..." She pointed helplessly at the linen sack.

"Proof of success," the assassin said and walked toward her. Elincia recoiled immediately and raised her palms, which made Volke stop in his tracks. He looked at her quizzically, then shook his head with a lenient expression.

"You seem to be having first-timer troubles again. Very well." He put the sack on the floor in front of his feet, then walked back behind the throne, out of Elincia's sight. Not that she had eyes for anything but the terrible little sack and what it must contain.

"It's none of my business, but if I were you, I'd take a look inside," his voice came from behind the throne. "I'll contact you later today for the payment." There was a faint, almost unnoticable flash of light, and something told her that Volke had left the throne room.

_Well, what did I expect?_ Elincia asked herself as her entire body began to tremble uncontrollably._ That he would come back empty-handed? That he'd tell me he'd changed his ways? I hired an assassin, and he did his job. I have no right to pretend to be shocked!_

But Elincia could not help it: She was shocked, and chilled to her bones. She stared at the sack for a long time, unwilling to open it. But she knew she had to – had to verify its contents before she handed it over to Alm.

_Goddess, please help me! I can't do this!_

But she had to do it, and she had to do it now, before courtiers entered the throne room and the daily business of a queen began. Mustering all her courage, Elincia opened the sack and looked inside.

Had she not skipped breakfast today, she would have surely thrown up, for inside was Bastian's head, severed at the neck, an expression of utter surprise on his pale face.


	12. His Greatest Achievement

Part II: Queen of Resolve

**  
Chapter 12: His Greatest Achievement**

When the message from Izuka came, Elincia was in the palace gardens, engaged in a fencing session with one of the Royal Knights. She had not yet picked a permanent personal trainer after Lucia's death, and she might never pick one: Training with a wider range of opponents would probably serve her better in the long term, and her fights with Lucia had always been more enjoyable than arduous – perhaps not the best state of affairs for combat training. But then again, Elincia had been able to keep up her skills over the last three years, and during the battle at Fort Alpea, she had acquitted herself rather well, so all the time trading blows with Lucia had definitely not gone to waste.

"Your Highness," the knight said after parrying one of her blows and pointed at the messenger waiting behind her, watching the queen, presumably unsure whether or not to interrupt her in her training. Panting heavily from the exertions, she turned around and beckoned him to approach and state his business.

"It is the prisoner, Your Highness, that Izuka," the messenger said after bowing. "He claims to have accomplished what you bade him do, and asked... well, demanded... that you see him at once and set him free."

"Already?" Elincia asked out loud. _But it has only been one week since he started his research_, she thought as she accepted a kerchief from the knight and wiped her face clean of sweat. _Can he really have succeeded already? No, it's impossible. He must be toying with me._

But on the other hand, it had been Izuka's own serum that had driven her uncle mad, and who would know better than to counteract its effects than its own creator? It was certainly not out of the question – after all, he was supposed to be a genius.

"Naturally, I told him that you would not see him just because he demanded it," the messenger told Elincia. "'Her majesty makes her own schedule!' I said. But you asked us to relay any of his messages, so..."

"It's all right," Elincia said and raised her palm. "That man has committed sins far worse than being impertinent and disrespectful." _And he will pay for those for the rest of his life. _"You needn't be apologetic for relaying his words."

"Of course not, Your Highness," the man said and bowed again, an expression of relief on his bearded face. Even after several years on the throne, it still surprised Elincia how easily her station and title intimidated people. She considered that a very unfortunate thing, for it could easily create an atmosphere where messengers might be afraid to deliver bad news, thus inadvertently preventing the queen from addressing a crisis. To counter this effect, she had always taken great efforts to be friendly to even the lowest-ranking courtiers and servants, always letting them know how much she depended on their work.

_But Crimea had its fair share of autocratic rulers who treated their subjects horribly, so I suppose it's only natural that they'd be wary of the queen. These things take time to change._

Apparently much more time than it had taken Izuka to cure Elincia's uncle, or so he claimed. But could she believe him? Like most prisoners everywhere, he would surely say anything to get out of his cell, and...

_What is this nonsense? I just have to go down there and put his antidote to the test. Then I'll know for certain. I don't have to rely on Izuka's word at all._

Elincia shook her head slightly, annoyed at herself for being thrown in such a stir by Izuka's announcement. She desperately wanted to be optimistic and hopeful, but her sober sense of realism smashed any such notions with great speed: Recent events had disabused her of the notion that life dealt out good and bad in equal shares, and being optimistic was a sure way to set oneself up for disappointment.

_Be that as it may, I have to see uncle right now._

"Thank you for informing me," Elincia told the messenger, "and to you for today's training," she told the knight. "I will... put that man's claim to the test," she added and walked toward the nearest door leading into the palace building.

"Your Highness!" the messenger called out in something that sounded like outrage, stopping her momentarily. "You cannot... I mean... it may not be my place to say this, but you should not immediately answer that criminal's call!"

"Then what would you have me do?" Elincia asked over her shoulder. "Wait an hour or two to spite him? It's not like I'll see him for his sake."

"It just doesn't seem right," the man defended himself meekly.

"Perhaps, but at the end of the day, Izuka will still be a prisoner. If the ability to summon the queen gives him solace in his damp and dark cell, that's fine with me." She smirked "As you said, the queen makes her own schedule. It works both ways."

"Of course, Your Majesty. My apologies."

Elincia merely gave the man a short nod before continuing on her way inside, weary of telling people that they did not have to apologize for every little thing – seriously, did they think their queen _that_ fragile? She had suffered greatly in the recent past, and even dirtied her hands with the blood of a friend, but even that had not broken her. Damaged, yes – but not broken. Not yet, at least.

The first few days after Bastian's death and the delivery of the gruesome proof had been horrible, and Elincia was unable to recall them in much detail. She had taken ill after almost collapsing in the throne room, staggering through the palace corridors with the horrible package (tied shut again, of course) cradled against her chest, fighting revulsion every step on the way. She vaguely remembered meeting the wretched Duke Alm on her way – had he been keeping tabs on her, or had it just been coincidence? – and thrusting the dread package at him without so much as a word before continuing on to her room and burying herself beneath her blankets once again.

There she had stayed for three days, her door locked from the inside, and refused to open it for anyone, not even Geoffrey, in spite of the increasingly concerned pleas from servants and friends to let them inside. Eating nothing and drinking little, Elincia had spent most of the time in a daze fueled by her crushing guilt, punctuated by fits of uncontrolled sobbing. She had only emerged from her room after realizing that, unless she took drastic actions to the contrary, life would go on whether she liked it or not, and that hiding from the reality of what she had become was utterly foolish.

Finding Geoffrey standing guard at her door, bleary-eyed but awake, had helped Elincia anchor herself back in the world. "I'll be all right from now on," she had told him with a no doubt unconvincing smile, and he had not inquired about the cause for her reclusion, simply happy to see her back among the living. "Sorry to have worried you."

"Though I strive to aid you in any way I can," he had replied, "you are the queen. And there are some burdens the queen must bear alone." Had that been an admission that he suspected something about Bastian's fate? But even if he did, he was still supporting Elincia, and that was all that counted. In the following days, when her life returned to a semblance of normalcy, she had continued to rely on him, though she was careful not to let reliance grow into dependence... or something even worse, something she no longer had any right to feel.

Then, three days after her return – the day before yesterday – a messenger from Begnion had arrived. After suffering a strategic defeat against the Begnion Central Army, Tibarn's army had been forced to retreat into Gallia, with the Empire giving pursuit. In the name of a Senator Valtome, the man had requested that Crimea support her suzerain by granting them free passage through their territory as well as supplies. Elincia had deemed the war foolish from the very beginning, but she could only too well imagine the horrors that would be visited upon laguz lands by a triumphant Begnion army, and had denied the request, citing Crimea's alliance with Gallia. Many of the nobles had complained, but unlike during the confrontation about Bastian, their unofficial leader, Duke Alm, had staid silent, and so their complaints had remained ineffectual.

"Getting dragged into this stupid war is about the last thing Crimea needs, thank you very much," Elincia had told Geoffrey after the meeting with the nobles in one of those few, precious moments where there was no one nearby and she could speak her mind openly. "But we would be fools to trust in the decency and good will of a Begnion Senator, so have your scouts keep an eye on them." So far, there had been no news of any developments, but Elincia had learned to brace herself for the worst.

And that was also what she was doing now: As she descended the stairs into the palace dungeon, she prepared herself to have her hopes shattered, and to be mocked by Izuka for daring to harbor them in the first place. While mocking her like this would only serve to enrage her, there was no telling how Izuka's twisted mind worked – anything was possible with him.

And yet, strangely enough, when Elincia reached the dungeon and faced Izuka in his cell-turned-laboratory, it was his gloating face that gave her renewed hope. Surely, a man so convinced of his own genius would not sully his self-image by admitting that he had been unsuccessful, even if this admission came in the form of a cruel jest?

"Ah, there she is, come to pay her respects to the tireless researcher!" The strange, evil man bent forward and rubbed his palms. "When Izuka calls, even kings and queens know to heed him."

_Gloat if you want to_, Elincia thought to herself._ You'll have many, many years to savor this moment while rattling on your bars and complaining how your genius is being wasted. Provided..._

"You have results?" she asked sternly.

"Izuka always produces results." He nodded eagerly, a streak of hair bobbing up and down on his forehead. With a dramatic gesture and a strange, humming sound, he produced a thin vial filled with a clear liquid from underneath his dirt-stained purple robes. "The object of your desire!" he trumpeted out. "The concoction that will unmake Bertram and restore your uncle's sanity."

"Give it to me," Elincia demanded. "Now!" she bellowed when Izuka seemed unwilling to part with his precious cure, and the naturalist handed it over to her through the metal bars, his face contorted in a scowl that was more annoyed than frightful. "No manners," he muttered to himself, but Elincia paid him no heed, inspecting the vial from all sides. She even took a sniff at the liquid inside, and found that it was odorless. Only then did she realize that she had no means to test whether this cure was really what had was promised – but could she trust Izuka's word alone?

_Do I have a choice?_

"Your doubts are written all over your hideous visage," Izuka snarled from within his cell. "You think it might not work. Preposterous! Genius cannot fail!"

"It's not so much that I think you're incompetent," Elincia said without looking at the man, "but that I think you're evil."

"Evil? What kind of nonsense word is that?" Izuka's voice grew even more surly. "Have you ever seen 'evil'? Can you put it in a beaker? Can you analyze it? Can you–"

"I have indeed seen evil," Elincia interrupted Izuka and looked him in the eyes. "Under many guises, and in many places." _And recently, in the mirror._

"Nothing but anecdotes," Izuka protested. "Worthless for a researcher! If you can't measure something, then it doesn't exist!"

Elincia decided to ignore his rambling – she was not going to have a discussion about the nature of good and evil with a madman. Instead, she walked up to the cell's bars until her face was mere inches away from Izuka's, who seemed irritated by her proximity, but did not step back.

"If this cure doesn't work... no, if it actually makes my uncle worse, then you will die today, in this cell. Do you fully understand that?"

"What is it with people always demanding guarantees?" Izuka asked indignantly, unfazed by the queen's threat. "I could not put this... 'cure' to the test, because there was no test subject, so I'm merely theoretically sure that it will work."

"Then I suppose that will have to be enough," Elincia replied dourly, though she did not like it one bit. But it was true that there were no test subjects for Izuka to use. Well, there was a way – she could have Izuka poison somebody, turn him into a crazed beast like her uncle, and test the cure on that person. But that would have been a horrific and outright evil thing to do, and she was not willing to sink that low, not even if it placed uncle Renning at risk.

"Ah, it's beautiful!" Izuka suddenly exclaimed. "That look on your face! You have just learned what every researcher must learn: That you never have optimal conditions for anything! And it frustrates you, doesn't it?" He chuckled in a weirdly satisfied manner. "Now you have glimpsed a tiny portion of what it is like to be me, dragged down by the unwashed masses and their continuous obstruction of my efforts!"

"You're not even making sense anymore," Elincia spat and backed away from the bars, suddenly disgusted with Izuka's greasy hair, his beady eyes and glistening forehead. She did not care at all to know what it was like to be him.

"I'll administer the cure now," she said. "Pray to the Goddess that it works."

"The Goddess herself could not hope to plumb the depths of my genius," Izuka babbled, but Elincia ignored him and called for two of the guards to open her uncle's cell and restrain him if necessary. Renning had been sleeping until then – the same restless, mumbling sleep that he had been in during her first visit a week ago – and she hoped that he would not struggle until the cure had taken effect.

Unfortunately, her hopes were dashed as soon as the wardens entered his cell: Awakening instantly, Renning leapt off his pallet and launched himself at the guards, roaring incomprehensibly. Elincia clenched her teeth and forced herself to watch as her once kind uncle was subdued, though not without the guards calling two of their comrades for reinforcements. Only then did she enter the cell, clenching the small vial in her right hand.

"Hello, uncle," she said after coming to a stop in front of Renning. The sound of her voice had an effect on him: Though he still growled and muttered, his tone changed somewhat, and there seemed to be a spark of recognition somewhere in his eyes. But even if it was there and not just a figment of Elincia's imagination, it was not enough for him to find his true self again.

_Well, that's what this is for_, Elincia thought, and told the guards to force her uncle's head back and his mouth open. That only served to renew his mindless rage, but even Renning could not break the hold of four strong men, and his roars turned into a throaty gurgling.

"I'm sorry, uncle," Elincia said as she poured the contents of the vial into his mouth. "Goddess willing, this ordeal will be over soon." To prevent him from spitting the medicine out again, she had the guards hold his mouth shut until he swallowed. There was no immediate change in his behaviour, though: He still raged and struggled against the guards' hold and was soon forced down to his pallet to easier restrain him.

"How long before your cure takes effect?" Elincia asked loudly. "Not long, not long at all," came the answer from the neighboring cell. "Ah, it is truly happening! Bertram is being undone! What a terrible tragedy!"

Amazed at what went for tragedy in Izuka's mind, Elincia ignored him again, focusing on Renning instead. "Please, uncle," she whispered, "come back to us. To me." Against the protest of the guards, she took one of his restrained hands, and though he clenched it to a fist immediately and tried to crush her hand in return, she did not flinch, enduring the pain as she waited for the cure to take effect while praying silently to Ashera.

Then, not a minute after Renning had swallowed the medicine, a sudden change took place: His hissing and howling subsided abruptly, replaced by an eerie silence, and his eyes that had been darting all over the place, sending hateful glares to all it beheld, turned inward. His heavy breath became more steady by the second, and his painful grip on Elincia's hand relaxed.

_It's working! Bless Izuka... no, curse him! But also bless him._

"Who... is..."

"What? What did you say?" Elincia asked excitedly. That had been her uncle Renning speaking with his normal voice, not his Bertram-snarl. "Talk to me!"

"Who... is... there?" His eyes were still out of focus, but his hand tightened again around hers – not violently as before, but gently and cautiously.

"It's me, Elincia." She put her other hand around his and caressed it. "Elincia, your niece. I'm here with you, uncle. Everything will be all right, I promise."

"Elincia..." The way he pronounced her name made Elincia almost jump with joy: There was recognition in his voice.

"Elincia," Renning said again, and his eyes finally became focused. He stared at his niece in bewilderment, like a man who had just been awoken from a horrible nightmare – which was almost literally the case. "Where am I?" He weakly raised his head and stared at the guards who were still restraining him, amazement on their faces as well. "Why am I..."

"Release him!" Elincia told them immediately. "Now!" she said empathically when they did not at first obey. "This is Crown Prince Renning you're holding down!"

The men obeyed reluctantly, and Elincia felt vindicated in her admittedly harsh tone when her uncle made no aggressive move against her or anybody else. Instead, he merely rose from his pallet, and Elincia, who had knelt down at some point, rose with him, still firmly clasping his hand.

"This place... the dungeon?" Renning asked, confused, but clearly understandable. "How did I get here? The last thing I remember..." He put his brow in furrows, clearly making an effort to remember at all. "I was a captive of Daein!" he called out. "They tortured me, and gave me poison to drink." Elincia shuddered at his words, but dared not interrupt him. "There was this strange, vile man... and Mad King Ashnard! And then..." He paused, his eyes turning once again inward, blinking repeatedly. "What then?" He looked at Elincia. "Did you free me?" She began to talk when he interrupted her. "And what happened to Ramon... to your father?"

"What is it that I hear?" Izuka's voice suddenly sounded from the neighboring cell. "Is it success? Hm? Has Izuka not delivered on his promise?"

"Shut up!" Elincia cried in anger, any inkling of gratitude toward Izuka exorcised by the haunted look in Renning's eyes when he had mentioned his torture at the hands of his Daein captors. "Come on, uncle," she said and gently pulled his arm. "We should get upstairs. This damp place can't be good for your health."

"It's not good for my health, either!" Izuka cried out nearby. "The two of us had an agreement, yes? Surely you will honor it?"

"Shut up!" Elincia shouted again, but her uncle's attention had been caught. "I know that voice," he said and made a step toward the cell door.

"Wait!" Elincia said and blocked the way outside. "You don't have to concern yourself with that... that person." She feared that the sight of Izuka might also make her uncle remember what had happened during his time as Bertram – the things he had done. Right now, it seemed that he had no recollection of that period at all, and she could only pray that it stayed that way. "He's just a common criminal."

"Wh-what?" The sheer shock in his voice almost made Elincia laugh out loud. "The magnificent Izuka... a common criminal? A criminal, fine, if you insist, but _common_? The audacity! There are no words!"

"If only," Elincia muttered, and tried to steer her uncle away from Izuka's cell. He was a tall, strong man, and only his momentary confusion allowed her to gently push him to the left instead of the right. "Silence him!" she told one of the guards, and with a satisfied smile, the man drew his sword and made for Izuka's cell. "Wait!" she called after him. "I didn't mean it like that! Just... gag him or something!"

"As you wish," the man replied with unmistakable disappointment, and Elincia could only imagine too well how much Izuka had gone on the guards' nerves during his week-long stay. But he had kept his end of the contract, and although that would not buy him his freedom – let him cry foul as much as he wanted – it would buy him his life. Except perhaps if her uncle insisted otherwise, but Renning had never been a vengeful man.

"What about my freedom?" Izuka yelled almost hysterically. "Answer me!"

"You'll never step foot outside this cell for the rest of your life," Elincia announced coldly. "And I'm being very merciful here."

"Ha! I knew it!" Izuka screamed. "I knew that you couldn't be trusted, you... hey, get away from me, you brutish hmpfmphmm..." The guard had entered his cell, picked up a dirty rug and gagged the self-declared genius, and as far as Elincia was concerned, she would never hear that lunatic's voice ever again.

"Elincia, I... I don't feel so good," Renning suddenly said. He paused in the middle of a step and put a hand against his head. "It hurts... arrgh!" He was pressing both hands against his head now and made an insecure step forward when his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor.

"Uncle Renning!" For an instant, Elincia froze in shock, then she was on her knees next to her uncle, trying to get him to look at her. "What's happening? Why–"

She was interrupted by a scream louder than any she had heard before. Renning threw himself on the cold dungeon floor, his hands still pressing against his head, his legs flailing wildly. He was yelling like a man being tortured, and Elincia could only stare at him, her entire body shaking. Two of the guards were by her side almost immediately, but Renning was neither intending to, nor capable of, harming her or anyone else: Convulsing and screaming on the floor, he seemed to exist in a own world that was made up only of pain.

"What have you done?" Elincia yelled in Izuka's direction. "This was your doing!" The naturalist muttered something incomprehensible through his gag, but his features did not betray any surprise at Renning's drastically worsened condition. "Get him over here, now!" she commanded, and the soldier who had gagged him forcefully dragged Izuka next to the agonized duke. Elincia personally tore the gag out of his mouth, seized his head and shook it violently. "What did you do to him? Make it stop!"

"Even a genius as myself cannot do two things at once," he replied calmly. "Should I answer you, or heal him?"

"You... you!" Elincia knew it was foolish to put her hopes into this monster _again_ – had he not made things much worse just now, intentionally or not? But he was her only hope, because there was no one in all of Crimea who could help her uncle now except perhaps him. "Help him!" she cried. "Save him!"

"Ha! I expected that!" But instead of getting up and doing anything, Izuka merely stared at Elincia from his small, black pupils.

"What are you waiting for?" Elincia snapped. "I'll have you killed right now if you don't do something!"

"Then you must kill Izuka, for there is nothing now that can be done to help this man," the monster replied, his voice brimming with pride.

"What did you say?" Feeling utterly helpless, Elincia dragged her fingernails through Izuka's face, leaving behind deep scratches and effecting an annoyed 'aaah!'. "Did you plan for this to happen?"

"I have no death wish," Izuka replied haughtily, in spite of the unfavorable situation he was in. "His short period of clarity was supposed to last a little longer than this... at least long enough for me to get away from your palace. Ah, to think that a genius such as myself could blunder so..."

"Short period... of clarity?" The words were easy enough to understand, but her uncle's terrible and unrelenting screams were wreaking havoc on Elincia's mind. "You... you tried to trick me!"

"Just as you did, queen of deceit! You have no right to complain! Izuka merely turned the tables on you!"

"You madman!" Elincia cried. "Reverse it! Heal him!" But Izuka looked at her like at a foolish child. "I cannot," he replied.

"You cannot? Oh, we'll see!" Elincia reached out to one of the guards and made him hand over his sword to her, then put the tip against Izuka's throat. "Restore him or I'll kill you right here, right now!"

"Such a small mind." Still unimpressed by her threat – did that man not fear anything? – Izuka sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Did you not listen to what I said? I cannot heal your uncle! Nothing on this world could!" He grinned. "Not even that accursed galdr of rebirth will be able to cure him now!"

"What have you done to him?" Elincia demanded. Part of her did not even want to hear an answer, but simply plunge the sword through the monster's throat and be done with it. But first, she had to know. "Your cure wasn't real!" she accused him.

"Oh, it was real enough," Izuka said, "hence the temporary recovery. But I mixed it with a far more concentrated version of the original poison, to make any sort of cure forever impossible."

"Why... why... you're lying!" Elincia was grasping at straws, and she knew it. "He can still be cured!"

"The Goddess herself couldn't do it," Izuka spat out. "Do not insult my genius! I have destroyed his mind utterly, and no power in this world can restore it."

His words were too much for Elincia: With a scream, she pulled back her sword and thrust it at Izuka, who did not even try to dodge. But her hands were shaking badly, and instead of piercing his throat, she buried the sword in his chest just below the right shoulder. But Izuka was not even sane enough to scream in pain, instead continuing to stare at Elincia with an expression of utter triumph on his face.

"He is magnificent, is he not?" He pointed at Renning who was still convulsing, though no longer as severely as before. "My greatest achievement! A fitting triumph to end the marvelous career of Izuka. He will herald my genius even after I'm long gone!"

"You monster!" Elincia cried out, and in her impotent fury, stabbed Izuka three times more in the chest. This time, there was more than just a grunt, though not quite a howl of pain. Even in her rage, she noticed that the screams of her uncle were subsiding, but she could not turn her attention to him... not now, when she had to punish this foul creature!

"I did you a favor, you know." Izuka continued to talk as if there were no gaping wounds in his chest. Blood was running out of his mouth, but he was still talking perfectly clearly – still that tone in his voice that transcended mere arrogance, that lowered all those around him to subjects of either study or indifference with no regard for their humanity. "The way he is now, he'll be more useful to you than he could ever have been otherwise. Ah, such undeserving charity! What am I if not the greatest soul that ever lived?"

"What do you mean?" Elincia asked between gasping breaths.

"Don't you see how he's looking at you?" Izuka asked. His words prompted her to turn around, though her hands were still wrapped around the hilt of the sword stuck in his chest. She found that Renning, who had fallen completely silent, had regained some sort of posture and was half-kneeling on the ground, like the parody of a loyal knight. But worst of all was his gaze: He was staring at her not with the compassionate eyes of her uncle, but with the crazed, feral eyes of the monster he had been. But there has no snarling or hissing now, nor mindless rage and fury. He was merely staring at Elincia like a patient soldier awaiting an order.

"What... what happened to him?"

"He has been re-conditioned by the re-application of the poison," Izuka deigned to explain. "You are his master now – the first person he beheld after the complete destruction of his old self. He'll be ever your obedient minion now, as he was King Ashnard's before. Unless you kill him, he will forever remain your slave, a growling beast with madness barely contained under the surface, ready to massacre and brutalize at your merest whim. Unable to think even a glimmer of independent thought! A killing machine! And never your dear, kind, beloved uncle ever again." He coughed blood and groaned, as if the pain of his mortal wounds had only now begun to register with him. „Truly my greatest achievement."

„You... you monster," Elincia could only repeat helplessly. She wished to stab Izuka again and again, to make his last moments as painful as possible, but she could not avert her eyes from the man who had once been her uncle, and who was now her slave, if Izuka was speaking the truth.

_I don't want a slave. I want uncle Renning back! Please... Ashera! Anyone! Please, help him! Not for my sake... but for his!_

Even as she thought such desperate, futile thoughts, Elincia knew that she should not be crying, should not be displaying sadness in front of her soldiers. Izuka had effectively murdered her uncle, and she had avenged him, and that should be that. No more signs of weakness!

_If only I had sent him to the herons, pride and politics be damned! Now it's too late..._

_Well, so be it. It's over and done with. I must let it rest. No sense torturing myself._

It was almost like a second voice speaking inside Elincia's mind – a voice of cold reason that she desperately wanted to ignore, but knew she could not. If she wished to avoid more pain and heartbreak in the future, she would have to make that voice her guide in all ways of life.

_I should have started doing that three years ago_, she chided herself. _Better late than never_, replied the voice of reason. _I am still young. There is still so much good I can do... in spite of everything._

„Take this body and dump it in the oubliette," Elincia spoke to the guards. „Do not speak to anybody about what happened here, not without my permission."

„This body... heh..." Izuka rasped even as two of the men seized him by his arms and feet. „Counted among the dead too soon! Such outrageous indignity... visited upon poor Izuka."

Elincia wanted to yell at him and curse him and damn him, but there was really no reason for that, she realized coldly. That man was dead and gone from the world, if not now, then in a few minutes. _Let him have his last moments of worthless grandeur_, she thought, and contended herself with the certain knowledge that he would never have anything else ever again.

„What a loss for humanity! What a loss for progress!" Izuka's voice sounded from the far side of the dungeon where the age-old, long-unused oubliette was situated. „What a genius dies with me!" There was a sharp gasp, a short pause, a dull thud, and then nothing.

_I would like to forget that he ever existed_, Elincia thought, but she knew that it was impossible. From now on, every time she looked at the man who was kneeling in front of her, she would be reminded of he who had transformed him. A cheap form of immortality for the man who was now lying, dead or dying, at the bottom of a deep pit, but Elincia begrudged him even that.

_It can't be helped. Not unless I kill him... and I cannot do that. Even if his mind has been destroyed, his body remains, and the blood of my family flows through his veins. Blood that demands respect, if nothing else._

The two guards returned from their disposal duty, and Elincia commended them along with their comrades and bade them return to their usual watch posts. „What shall we do with... him?" one of them asked, pointing at the man kneeling before Elincia.

„Leave him to me," she replied. Even without Izuka's assurances it would have taken just one glance at the man's eyes, slavishly beholden to his new mistress, to see that he was no longer a danger.

_At least not to me._

„Yes, Your Majesty," the soldiers said in unison – a new thing, Elincia noticed, and showed her approval with a nod before dismissing them. Perhaps if she thought of her soldiers as automatons, she would not have to feel so guilty every time she ordered them into combat...

„Your Highness!" a familiar male voice suddenly sounded behind her. It was Geoffrey.

„Yes, what is it?" Elincia asked as she turned around, taking note of the urgency in his voice. _Probably bad news again. Well... at least Geoffrey isn't afraid to deliver it._

„I have urgent... why is he free?" Even as he pointed at the kneeling figure before Elincia, Geoffrey drew his sword and stepped between them. „Where are the guards? What–"

„Sheathe your sword, Geoffrey, and pay him no heed for now," Elincia said gently. When he did not immediately obey her, she sighed and, with a gesture that might have been playful under other circumstances, she took his hands and pushed the sword back into its scabbard, while Geoffrey's gaze remained fixed, his expression one of palpable distrust. „You said it's urgent?" she prodded him.

„Uh, yes, Elincia." The guards were out of earshot, and so he could do away with the formalities – something she would always appreciate. Even after three years, it often took her a moment to realize that, when talking to ‚Your Highness' or ‚Your Majesty', people were addressing her, and not someone else. „I'm afraid I have bad news," he said, confirming her earlier fears.

„Out with it."

„Although you forbade it, the Begnion army has crossed into Crimean territory," Geoffrey reported. „And since they are not being offered supplies, they have decided to simply take them. They call ‚it tribute to the empire', I was told."

„They ignore me at their own peril," Elincia growled. She had prepared herself for this turn of events, and so she was neither surprised nor disappointed. Neither would have been rational reactions, after all. „If the armies of the empire wish to act like bandits, they should also be treated that way, don't you think?"

„What is Empire if not banditry on a larger scale?" Geoffrey asked meaningfully. „I forgot who said that, but it seems he was right."

„Indeed." Elincia nodded. „Take the Royal Knights and ride out to meet these bandits. Advise them – no, order them to withdraw immediately. If they do not comply, run them out of our lands."

„Understood," Geoffrey said immediately, but waited for a few seconds. „Is there anything else?" Elincia asked.

„It is not my place to ask, but should you... I mean, don't you want to run that decision by the nobles?" he asked cautiously.

„It is true that I should not ignore their opinion without good reason," Elincia said and was painfully reminded of her mishandling the situation with Bastian. „But in this case, the sovereignty of Crimea is being infringed upon. If we do not drive these marauders out, Crimea will virtually cease to exist as its own nation, and become a province to Begnion again. Most of the nobles don't want that. Oh, they will complain on principle, but they will agree with the measures we're taking. Depend on it."

„Very good," Geoffrey said. „In that case, I'll be on my way."

„Meee. Let... meee...!"

Both Elincia and her general threw their heads around as soon as they heard the familiar hissing voice. It was indeed her uncle who had spoken – no, not her uncle anymore, but something similar-looking, at least.

„Let... me... fight!" he repeated in a clear effort to sound more comprehensible, and his dark eyes bored into Elincia's. „Let me gooo with him... and fight... and ssslaughter!"

„_He'll be ever your obedient slave now,"_ she instantly recalled Izuka's words. He was no longer a loved one, barely a human being anymore... but could she make use of him?

Or rather, could she, at a time like this, afford not to make use of him?

„I accept your volunteering," she said, making a quick decision where there was no time for delays. Geoffrey raised both eyebrows, clearly expecting an explanation, but that would have to wait until later. „You will obey General Geoffrey's orders as if they were mine. Is that clear?"

„Yesss."

„In that case, you may go." She nodded at her confused general. „He will not make any trouble. And if it comes to bloodshed, he should prove to be... quite useful."

„I don't really understand what's going on," Geoffrey said, „but I'll trust your judgement, Elincia." He looked at his latest volunteer with an awkward expression. „I'll have them get your old armor and weapons, Duke Renning." With that, he turned around and made for the stairs leading out of the dungeon.

„That isn't appropriate," Elinca called after him. „Give him the black armor that he wore when he arrived here."

„As you wish." Geoffrey accepted her order without further inquiry.

„And one more thing," she added before he left. „His name is not Renning. It's Bertram."


	13. Saber Rattling

_AN: Just a short notice for clarity's sake: As you probably already realized, events have now caught up to the point where Elincia meets Valtome for the first time. __Since it was not affected by what happened in Crimea, ____t_he war between Begnion and the laguz alliance took pretty much exactly the same course as in the game, including the intervention of Daein and the laguz' hasty retreat into Gallia. After that, the Imperial army entered Crimean territory and plundered several border villages, and the events of chapter 3-9, 'Marauders', occurred - with the only difference that Bertram fought alongside Crime. After the forcible ousting of his pillagers, Senator Valtome has come to Melior to demand an explanation.  


_However, the Elincia Valtome meets now is not the same woman he meets in the official timeline..._

* * *

**Chapter 13: Saber Rattling**

Elincia received the two arrivals in her throne room, alone except for Geoffrey who was standing right next to her, fully armed and girdled, in a state of perfect readiness. Under other circumstances, such an expression of distrust would surely have angered the foreign dignitary come to negotiate with her, but in this case, the damage was already done: The Begnion Senator was seething with overt rage, his feminine features contorted to a ridiculous grimace. But although the thin, long-haired man clearly posed no physical threat at all, he was representing the largest military might on the continent, and was speaking and acting in the name of the Senate. He was a much greater danger to the future well-being of Crimea than his bodyguard General Zelgius, imposing though he was, clad in red armor and standing even taller than Geoffrey.

Elincia was seething with a righteous anger of her own that could easily match that of the Senator, though she did her best to conceal it. Openly showing her feelings in the coming confrontation – a confrontation that would decide about war or peace with the Empire – would only make her easier to manipulate, and she was still not skilled enough at statecraft to give the opponent any unnecessary advantage.

_But I will not back down before his threats. War with the Empire would be a catastrophe, but if Crimea has to sacrifice its sovereignty to appease them, then even war would be preferable._

"Senator Valtome..." Elincia rose from her throne, taking notice that she was taller than him. "I sincerely regret having to meet under these circumstances." The tone of her voice made it clear that, depending on what happened in the following the minutes, the Senator might live to regret it, too. She dared not make an overt threat – that had backfired horribly when she had used it against the Crimean nobles not long ago – but she would not waste her time with fake friendliness, either.

"Oh, I completely agree, Your Majesty," Valtome replied. His voice was high-pitched and unpleasant to the ear, and Elincia let him know it by scowling deeply. "I never dreamed we'd suffer so much mistreatment from our allies. So, you've decided that Crimea will side with Gallia, and honor the alliance with those filthy sub-humans over ours?"

It was about what Elincia had expected the man to say. After all, Geoffrey and his knights had made it abundantly clear that pillaging and looting of Crimean villages would not be tolerated, by wiping out an entire company of Begnion troops engaged in plunder.

"As I've told your earlier messenger," she said slowly, " Crimea remains neutral. We will side neither with Begnion nor the Laguz Alliance. That is my final answer." To emphasize that she would not debate that point, she sat down on her throne and placed her arms on its armrests.

"Ah, then please enlighten me." Valtome was clearly trying to keep himself under control and erupting in a fit of anger that would have been quite unbecoming of a Begnion Senator. "Why prevent us from getting what we needed?" he asked. "Begnion is your suzerain. You should be...delighted...to comply with–"

"Enough!" Elincia's interruption stupefied Valtome, and she left him on time to recover. "By engaging in plunder and arson _before _seeking negotiations, you have shown your true colors. You have lost the right to call yourselves Crimea's suzerain, since you clearly care nothing for her welfare!"

Valtome stared at Elincia open-mouthed, then at the expressionless Zelgius to his right, then at Elincia again. But even though the Queen of Crimea gave no indication that she had been speaking in anything but in earnest, he began to laugh.

"Uwee hee hee... if Crimea no longer desires to be under Begnion's protection, then perhaps you would prefer to be under our direct administration? Oh, yes," he nodded eagerly to himself, "I think your capital would make a splendid addition to my already vast estate. I could use this quaint palace of yours as a summer resort. The architecture is horrid, but at least the gardens are nice to look at."

"You know not what you're saying, Senator Valtome," Elincia responded, unfazed by the man's arrogance. "You speak of the subjugation of Crimea, but I wonder... do you even have the authority to say such things? I doubt the Senate would approve."

"But you don't know what you're saying, little queen." Valtome's voice was dripping with condescension. "The Senate has given me full authority to wage war against all enemies of the Empire. And since you declared yourself our enemy by attacking my forces in such a brazen manner–"

"In that case, there's no point in continuing these... 'talks'," Elincia interrupted him again. "If you would make war on us, then return to your army and prepare yourself... and keep in mind that the laguz alliance will be at your exposed backs faster than you can manicure your nails." She realized that she was not talking diplomatically anymore, but then again, Valtome had never intended to negotiate at all. She had met only a few Begnion Senators in the past, and although all of them had been self-absorbed and arrogant to a certain degree, Valtome was far worse than all of them. He lacked any ability to compromise, and so seeking any such compromise would not only be a waste of time, but also an admission of weakness.

_I may be condemning my people to another war, _she realized_, every bit as bad as the one against Daein._ But even if Valtome had the authority to use force against Crimea, she had at least a dim hope that the more reasonable elements of the Senate might not desire war – not to mention the Empress herself, to whom Elincia was personally indebted, and who opposed the Senators wherever their greed and arrogance ran rampart. Even if it came to war, Crimea would only have to hold out long enough until Valtome was recalled, and his armies along with him. It was a calculated risk that she felt she could take.

"Oh, how bold and fearless!" Valtome mocked. "Not even a hint of trembling in your voice as you speak your own death sentence."

"How dare you!" Geoffrey, who had been watching the impertinent Senator with growing contempt, made a step forward, his hand at his sword hilt. An instant later, General Zelgius did exactly the same thing, a diligent bodyguard even though he looked like he was deeply ashamed for his master.

"Oh, the valorous General Geoffrey, is it not?" Valtome asked from behind Zelgius. "Your name is spoken even in Sienne... though perhaps not in a manner you would like." He smiled a lascivious smile. "Your... unnatural devotion to your delectable queen is the stuff of many stories... most of them rather unsavory in nature."

"I'll have you know that I care little about my reputation," Geoffrey replied calmly. "But one does not cast the virtue of my queen in doubt without suffering the consequences."

"Uwe-hee... I'm so very afraid! I'm sure dear General Zelgius here would welcome what little challenge you present."

"Geoffrey, stand down," Elincia commanded. "We will not inflict bodily harm on a Senator." _If only because that would make his peers much more likely to favor war against Crimea. It's like Alm said. Aristocrats think of themselves first and their duties second... at best._

"Oh, this is rich," Valtome giggled. "You really don't understand the position you're in, do you? But perhaps you will, once I've seated myself on this comfortable-looking throne of yours, while you're lying prone before me, begging to lick my boots in exchange for not enslaving your cherished people."

"Senator," General Zelgius began. His distaste and shock about his superior's behavior had grown quite apparent, and it gave Elincia hope that a violent confrontation could be avoided, but Valtome would have nothing of it. "Silence, General," he said. "I am here to talk, you are here to guard me. Do not forget that division of tasks!"

"My apologies," Zelgius said meekly, and Elincia's opinion of him sank immediately. Perhaps she should not be placing much hope in him after all.

"But you know, Zelgius," Valtome said jovially, "a drawn-out siege of this palace would be... tedious. After all, the Senate entrusted me to eradicate the sub-humans, not waste my time dallying with these impertinent provincials. And besides, I have been looking forward to a bedside carpet made from the fur of a Gallian tiger!"

_Let him say whatever he wants_, Elincia thought with a tiny hint of relief. _Let him say waging war against Crimea would be to easy, or whatever... if it makes him desist in his aggression, then swallowing our pride would be well worth it._

But her modest hopes were dealt a fatal blow immediately when Valtome turned to General Zelgius and continued in an imperious tone.

"Therefore, it would be faster to end the reign of this foolish queen right here and now. Cut down this love-struck knight of hers and seize her. I'm sure that with her as hostage, the palace guard will grant us safe passage... only to watch her execution from afar. Uwee hee hee!"

Geoffrey almost made another step toward the two men from Begnion, but Elincia bade him stay his hand. "We will not be the first to draw the sword," she whispered to him, "but the last to sheathe it."

"I understand," he replied without taking his eyes off Zelgius. The famed Begnion General who had aided in Crimea's restoration three years ago was clearly reluctant to follow his orders, and said as much.

"My lord, I beg you to reconsider," he pleaded with Valtome – a strange sight, Elincia thought: A man of such obvious power as the General begging the effeminate Senator. "Please! You would cause a diplomatic incident of unheard-"

"How can there be a diplomatic incident if the nation of Crimea ceases to exist?" Valtome cut him off. "It is merely a domestic matter. Now stop talking back to me and seize her!"

In response, Zelgius sighed and drew his sword. "Very well. Your forgiveness, Queen Elincia. Please do not scream to alert the guard, or I would have to silence you."

"Over my dead body!" Geoffrey called out and drew his own blade, making a step to the side to better shield his queen.

"You are no match for me, Crimean General," Zelgius said in a tone of utmost confidence. "Lay down your weapon if you value your life. I promise to plead with the Senator once again that he spare the queen."

"Yes, I'm sure you'd plead with him for about two seconds, until he told you to shut up! What would you do then?"

"I would obey," Zelgius stated flatly, "but with great misgivings."

"And they call you the Empire's finest knight." Geoffrey snorted. "For all your famed combat and strategic prowess, you lack a backbone! Mindless obedience is not a virtue!"

"Strange words, coming from one who is said to hang on his queen's lips... literally, perhaps," Zelgius mocked. "Be that as it may, I have good reasons for my obedience." He pointed his sword at Geoffrey and assumed a dueling stance. "At your ready."

"You must save yourself, Elincia," Geoffrey said as he made a swift step toward Zelgius, bringing himself almost within sword range. "I'll keep him occupied while you get around him and reach the palace guard." Elincia noticed that he had called her by her first name only even though there were others present – a sign of his disdain for the Senator and his lapdog, or proof of his determination to die here, for her sake? Not that she would let it come to that, of course.

"Stand down, both of you," she demanded. "There's no need for you to fight."

"Then you surrender?" Zelgius misunderstood her, though he did not lower his blade just yet. "Good. You realized that I would have defeated your champion."

"One of my champions, perhaps," she said, "although you underestimate Geoffrey. But not both of them." She clapped her hangs together as hard as she could. "Bertram!"

An instant later, a movable panel hidden in the wall to Elincia's right hand slid aside, and out of the secret alcove where he had been waiting stepped her _other _champion, clad in his black Daein armor and wielding a large rune sword that was still blood-stained from the other day's fighting. Without hesitation or disorientation, he crossed the small distance to his mistress and planted himself a few feet next to Geoffrey, pointing his blade at Zelgius. "Do you want to perisssh?" he asked in that hissing voice that had used to make Elincia's heart ache. But that was in the past, and since then, she had accepted him for what he was.

_He may be a monster_, she thought with strange pride_, but he is _my _monster._

Both the General and the Senator were stunned by Bertram's sudden entrance, staring at the helmeted knight from wide eyes. "You're supposed to be dead!" Zelgius exclaimed, while Valtome made several steps backward, his eyes focusing on the bloodstains on the blade. Zelgius' recognition came as no surprise for Elincia – as Begnion's foremost General, he was in a position to know his counterparts in other countries.

"So you were the black-clad knight fighting against our looters," Zelgius realized. "They said that the Black Knight himself was fighting for Crimea... but I knew for certain that it could not be him."

"W-What are you waiting for?" Valtome demanded from behind Zelgius' armored back. "Kill them both!" Much of the arrogance in his voice had evaporated without a trace, Elincia noted with satisfaction.

"I know this black-clad warrior," Zelgius replied. "He used to be one of Daein's Four Riders, almost equal in skill to–"

"Do I look like I care?" Valtome shrieked. "Kill them!"

"Almost equal in skill to _me_," Zelgius completed his sentence dryly. "I cannot stand against him and the Crimean general at the same time. Please reconsider your order, Senator. Know that I will obey it, but that would mean death for me and captivity for you."

"Uh... uh... uwe-hee!" With a forced laugh, Valtome stepped out of Zelgius' shadow and assumed a pose of insulted dignity. "Looks like the queenlet gets to live a little longer," he twanged, his powdered face red with anger. "But I promise you: We will meet again!" With these parting words, he turned on the spot and hurried toward the entrance of the throne room, almost tripping over his stately robes. Before following him, Zelgius looked at Bertram and said: "It seems General Ike is incapable of finishing _anybody_. Good to know." A few seconds later, the two men had left the throne room without closing the door, and Elincia could hear Valtome berate Zelgius for his uselessness as they passed through the antechamber.

_Nobody died... yet_, she thought. _By that metric, it went surprisingly well._

"I could hardly contain myself," Geoffrey growled, "the way he threatened you!" He turned his head and looked at Elincia. "We can still take him if you give the word!"

"No." Elincia shook her head. "We will give him one last chance to take his war elsewhere." She closed her eyes and sighed. "But of course we must prepare for the worst."

"I've already taken the liberty to reinforce the border fortresses, so that the Imperial Army cannot occupy them for themselves," Geoffrey said. "Assuming you wish to wage a defensive war – if it comes to that – we should be able to fend off even the Central Army for a good while. And they cannot act freely, either – as you said, the laguz alliance would love to get their revenge on them."

"If only this foolish war had never been started," Elincia growled. "Next time I see King Tibarn, I intend to give him a piece of my mind."

"Perhaps we should have Bertram hide again at that time, just in case the situation escalates," Geoffrey suggested with a coy grin.

"Tibarn may be prone to violence, but he has himself under control," Elincia replied. "But now that you mention Bertram..." She looked at the man whom she had come to think of as a Black Knight of her own. "You used to be a regimental commander during the last war, so I trust you can be more... verbose than usual if the situation demands it?"

"Yesss, I can," Bertram said. "If talking furthers the bloodshed... I will talk. I will command."

Geoffrey gave Elincia a doubting look – he was still not comfortable with the idea of fighting alongside a bloodthirsty monster – but she could not afford such doubts. In dire straits like these, they had to use all available resources, including Bertram. And perhaps talking to other people, even if it was only ordering them around, might stir the lost soul hidden beneath the black armor...

_I mustn't get my hopes up_, Elincia told herself. _I must consider uncle Renning dead unless proven otherwise, to save me even greater heartache._

"Excellent," she said out loud, hiding her uncertainty behind a self-satisfied tone. "In that case, you are promoted to the rank of General, answering only to Geoffrey and myself." This time, Geoffrey went so far as to raise an eyebrow, but he accepted his new colleague without protest. "You said he fought impeccably against the Begnion looters," she reminded him, "without once hurting an ally."

"That he did," Geoffrey admitted reluctantly.

"Then my decision stands," she said. "If he was good enough for Ashnard, then he's good enough for me."

"It pains me to hear that from you, though I cannot in good conscience disagree," Geoffrey said with a sad expression. "These are dark times."

"We do not get to choose the times we live in. Always remember that."

"I understand," Geoffrey nodded. "I had best make sure that our... guests have departed peaceably," he added and pointed at the still-open door.

"Yes, do that," Elincia agreed. "And after that, review your defensive plans and make sure that every Crimean soldier knows that we might well be facing the might of the Empire soon." She scowled at her own choice of words. "Not that you should paint it as too mighty, mind you. That would be bad for morale."

"I think I'll be able to hit the spot," Geoffrey said with a smile and turned to leave. "Until later."

"You know what our ancestors used to say," Elincia said when he had almost reached the door, making him stop one last time. "If you desire peace, prepare for war."

"They were wise men, those ancestors," Geoffrey said. "Let us hope that we match their wisdom as well as their courage." With that he left, and Elincia motioned Bertram to follow him, leaving her alone in the throne room, mentally preparing herself for future bloodshed.


	14. Fist of Crimea

**Chapter 14: Fist of Crimea**

"One of my scouts has just returned, Your Majesty," Geoffrey told Elincia after riding up to her side. "The two armies have set up camp within five miles of each other, on opposite sides of a large plain. Both of them are gathering in their encampments as we speak and are preparing for combat. It seems they will engage in a pitched battle."

"Both sides are eager to destroy the other," Elincia said grimly. "No one is going to run or hide, so they're going to clash – and in the midst of Crimean territory." She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the events of the last three days. After the 'negotiations' with Valtome, the Imperial army had, predictably enough, ignored her warnings, and continued its march due west toward Gallia. Rather than waiting for the enemy to bring the battle to them, the laguz alliance had crossed the border into Crimea – against Elincia's explicit wishes – to fight their enemy as far away from home as possible. In their desire to spare the people of Gallia the horrors of war, they had brought them to Crimea, and that was inexcusable.

"There are five villages in the vicinity of the battlefield," Geoffrey informed her. "Out of those, two have been hastily abandoned and one burned down... the work of the Imperial army, no doubt. The other two have not been contacted yet, but they're closer to Gallia, so I'd hope that the laguz left them in peace."

"If I had listened to your advice and captured Valtome three days ago, these people would never have died, or been forced to abandon their home," Elincia observed.

"Don't burden yourself so, Your Highness," Geoffrey said. "You tried to reason with him even though he had already plundered Crimean villages – if the roles had been reversed, I'm sure he would not have been so generous. The fault lies with him, not you."

"I know," Elincia said and nodded. "I didn't say that because I wished to wallow in guilt – I have moved past that. No, I said it because I intend to rectify my mistake."

"Your Highness?" Geoffrey raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I understand."

"Look around you, Geoffrey," Elincia said, and he obeyed, letting his gaze wander over the several hundred Crimean Knights riding in formation around them. "Do you think this small force of ours would stand a chance if we were to put ourselves between two armies who outnumber us both, and who will try their hardest to get past us and reach their hated foes?"

"It would be a... difficult battle. Very dangerous," Geoffrey admitted. "Which is why I recommended that you stay behind in Melior."

"The queen must be here in person, and you know that." Elincia knew that he knew it. Geoffrey's concern for her was still a powerful force, but not powerful enough to make him insist that she stay behind – he had accepted that she made her own decisions, and he would obey them.

"I know it," Geoffrey nodded with a sigh. "I know many things. But the more I learn, the more I think I'd like to stay ignorant."

"That's a childish wish," Elincia chided him. "You cannot close your eyes in the face of evil, or you allow it to happen."

"Evil? I wonder... is the Imperial army evil? Valtome, certainly... but his men?"

"They are obedient to him. You saw General Zelgius. Even though he dared totalk back to his master, he still obeyed. The common soldiers will surely be even more obedient."

"But is obedience evil?" Geoffrey wondered in a strangely reflecting tone. "I wouldn't think so. After all, I'm following your orders, too."

"Geoffrey, if I ever give you an order that you truly believe to be evil, then I expect you to try and stop me. If you don't, you won't be any different from him." She pointed at Bertram, who was riding a few paces ahead of her pegasus on a black war steed, occasionally muttering to himself in anticipation of bloodshed.

"Is he evil, then?" Geoffrey wondered. "And if so, are we not also evil for making use of him?"

"You must have asked yourself that question before, when you took him with you to fight the Begnion pillagers," Elincia pointed out. She rose in the saddle and overlooked the road ahead, but there was no sign of the opposed armies yet.

"We'll have to pass that forest over there first, then we'll be able to see the plain," Geoffrey volunteered. "It should take us about half an hour. Unless you wish us to hurry."

"I don't," Elincia said. "In fact, it might be better if both sides have already begun fighting once we arrive."

"Your Highness?" Geoffrey seemed genuinely surprised. "I thought you wish to prevent them from fighting."

"I'll tell you once we arrive," she told him. It would do nobody any good if she revealed her plan too soon, even if the risk of being overheard was small. "Be patient. Now, about Bertram..."

"Yes, you are right," Geffrey said, "I considered that question before. And I decided that he is neither good nor evil, but it depends on what he's used for."

"Like a tool?"

"Like a tool. Provided he can't be restored anymore..."

"I doubt that he can," Elincia said sharply, if only to dash her own hopes that her uncle was beyond salvation. "What do you think about his bloodlust?"

"He will not give in to it unless you order him to," Geoffrey replied. "He's like a very sharp knife – dangerous unless handled correctly. That's the conclusion I arrived at."

"I share your opinion about him," Elincia said and looked at the massive, black-clad knight riding ahead of her. Seeing him from behind and girdled with his armor from top to toe, he bore little resemblance to her late uncle Renning, other than his general build. It was for this reason that she had ordered him always wear his helmet when she was nearby – she did not wish to be reminded of the person he had once been. That man might well be dead, and grief would only serve to weaken her – something she could ill afford at this critical time, when Crimea's fate was lying once again in the balance.

"You must never become like him, Geoffrey," she said.

"Are there any indications that I might?" he asked somewhat piqued.

"Oh, no, not in the least." Elincia almost laughed. "But I just want to remind you that I need you like you are... talking to me. Asking me questions. Watching and judging me."

"I would never presume to judge you," Geoffrey said and stiffened visibly in his saddle.

"But you must." Elincia's tone made it clear that she was being dead serious. "Everyone judges those around them, even if the verdicts are only temporary, and rarely said out loud. That's just how people work."

"I am two years older than you. I should be the one giving out sage advice based on my life experience," Geoffrey said half-seriously. "But you are right," he added after spending a while thinking. "I have... judged you in the past... though I did not think of it that way at the time. Judged and found you worthy, of course," he hastened to add.

"I'm glad to hear that," Elincia said. She knew that Geoffrey's devotion was his greatest strength, but also perhaps his greatest weakness. And since he had admitted that he loved her... well, they said that love made you blind, did they not? And he could not afford to be blind, since he had to watch her.

"These are cruel times," Elincia spoke, "and I may well be forced to make cruel decisions in the future... as I have already done in the past." Bastian's face flashed before her inner eye, and she averted her gaze from Geoffrey, if only to avoid seeing his expression – she did not care to know whether he suspected something about the fate of their mutual friend. "If I ever should become evil, then please try to stop me," she said in a low voice.

"You? Evil? What's this nonsense about?" Geoffrey asked with a laugh, but Elincia remained serious.

"Evil only thrives because good men cast away their free will, and become like General Zelgius, allowing it to prosper," she explained. "Perhaps it was wrong of me to compare you to Bertram," she admitted. "But you must never become like Zelgius, either." She looked Geoffrey in the eyes. "Promise me this."

"I promise," he said promptly, but with conviction. "I will continue to watch and judge you... as your friend."

"Yes," Elincia nodded, somehow taken by his words. "Friends may be the one thing that can stop people from falling to evil. I'm sure Valtome has no friends, only bootlickers and yes-men. And Mad King Ashnard... I doubt he ever knew the meaning of the word friendship, seeing everybody either as enemies or servants."

"I don't know what's gotten into you, talking like that," Geoffrey sighed. "I'd rather have you compare me to Bertram again than comparing yourself to Ashnard! Stop talking about falling to evil and such nonsense."

"I'm not saying I am evil," Elincia defended herself. "But that's what I might become one day;" she whispered to herself. It was not loud enough for Geoffrey to hear over the sound of hundreds of hoofbeats, but he probably could make a good guess.

"I know that you've been afraid of doing the wrong thing ever since you ordered Ludveck's death," he told her. "But even the worst thing you could do today... like attacking the Begnion army from behind while they don't expect it... would still be justified! They are the ones who brought war to Crimea. And the only way to defeat war is through war."

"My plans are not quite so bloody," Elincia said with open relief. "But you'll see in time."

"Part of me is almost looking forward to it," Geoffrey replied with a grin. "Is that wrong? Watching and judging goes both ways, you know."

"Trust me, Geoffrey, if I ever have a serious complaint about you, you wouldn't hear the end of it."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

For a few minutes, the two of them fell silent, and Elincia watched the trees of the forest ahead become larger and larger as their small army approached them. Beyond those trees would be the Begnion army, and the laguz alliance. And...

"General Ike will be there, too," she said aloud even as she realized it. "His company should still be fighting for the laguz, right?"

"I've received no reports to the contrary," Geoffrey replied, "and our scouts reported a group of beorc among the retreating laguz army. So I'd say it's a safe bet." He let out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you don't intend to let us fight him. He's done so much for Crimea, it would feel... wrong somehow. Even though he and his men are violating Crimean territory... ah, curse it! Why couldn't he accept your offer and stay at the court? Why did he have to go back to being a mercenary?"

"Sir Ike is not like other mercenaries," Elincia defended him, even though their last encounter had been somewhat tragic, that with him arriving too late to save Lucia – after hiding deliberately! But she was trying very hard to forgive him for this. "He doesn't fight for money. At least not just for money. He..." she paused and struggled for words for a few seconds. "He fights for his friends."

"That didn't stop him from dragging an angry Begnion army into Crimea, or violating our territory," Geoffrey complained with a hint of anger.

"I agree," Elincia said. "Friends shouldn't let friends start foolish wars."

"You could extend your offer again, in case we get to see him," Geoffrey suggested. "If he became a Crimean General again, we wouldn't have to worry about him fighting stupid wars."

"I doubt he'll be in the best of moods when we put a stop to their fighting," Elincia said. "Perhaps another time." A sudden thought made her smirk. "I wonder what he'll think if he sees that Bertram is alive."

"It seems General Ike is incapable of finishing anybody," Geoffrey quoted General Zelgius' parting words with a hint of sarcasm.

"He'll probably see it as a reason to become even stronger."

"That might well be. He is very single-minded."

With that, the well of their conversation had run dry once again. The queen and her Royal Knights rode on in silence for about half an hour, just as Geoffrey hat predicted, slowly making their way through a thick forest on a narrow, leaf-covered road. When they approached the edge of the forest, Elincia insisted in moving to the vanguard to see the prospective battlefield for herself.

When the trees parted before her and revealed the large plain Geoffrey had mentioned, Elincia noticed that the fighting had not started yet. It seemed that they had arrived in the nick of time: Both armies had taken the field and were approaching each other at a fast pace, and were bound to collide in the center of the plain in no more than a minute. Most members of the laguz army had not transformed yet, and Elincia remembered that they could only spend a limited time in their animal forms, so most of them preferred to switch only moments before joining battle.

For an uninformed observer, the two sides would have looked everything but evenly matched, Elincia thought. The Imperial soldiers were all clad in their scarlet armor, brandishing enormous lances and poleaxes, while the laguz army looked like a band of rag-tag, unarmed wayfarers who were walking calmly toward their deaths. She knew, both intellectually and from personal experience, that this impression was as far from the truth as could be, and that the laguz' claws could easily match Begnion's steel, but it was still a very strange sight.

_I don't see the Greil mercenaries anywhere_, she thought with a pang of apprehension. _But that needn't mean anything... their numbers are small compared to the size of this army._ She estimated that there were at least ten thousand laguz present, while Ike's men were a small elite group – if they were at the centre of the army, which was likely, they would be quite easy to overlook. At any rate, she could not particularly concern herself with them at this time. The important thing was that the bloodshed had not started yet, and now that she was here, Elincia resolved to never let it start in the first place. And she had just the plan to realized that goal...

"I would ask you again to pull back, Your Highness," Geoffrey said next to her, "but I know now that it would be futile."

"You know me well," Elincia acknowledged with a smile. "Have the men take formation on the edge of this forest." Geoffrey shouted some orders, and the knights moved around them, flanking the queen at both sides. "Will you look at that," she said then and pointed at the two opposing armies who had abruptly stopped their advance toward each other. "I think they noticed us."

"Even as focused as they are on each other, it would be foolish not to expect this," Geoffrey pointed out.

"Do you think I'm foolish?" Elincia asked in a mock-offended voice.

"I didn't mean to say-" Geoffrey began, then he realized that she was not being serious. "Teasing innocent knights... I believe that counts as evil," he quipped back.

"And so I take the first step down a long, dark path," Elincia intoned solemnly. Then she remembered Bastian, and her own joke turned sour on her. Whether the future would hold a dark path for her remained to be seen, but if it did, then she had taken the first step a while ago.

"I believe our presence here is enough to keep them from tearing into each other," Geoffrey said. "At least until they have assured themselves of our intentions. Either side outnumbers us by far, but if we were to attack either of their flanks, their formation might crumble, and their loss would be assured."

"Which means we don't have much time," Elincia said, "so we must hurry."

"I would like to hurry, Your Highness," Geoffrey replied, "if only you told me your plan." He scratched his chin as if in contemplation. "I think now would be an excellent time."

"Your scouts have ascertained the positions of both armies' encampments, have they not?" Elincia asked, ignoring his request for the moment.

"Yes, they have." Geoffrey scowled. "But what does that have to do-"

"You'll see in a moment," Elincia cut him off. "Which one is further away?"

"That would be the laguz camp," Geoffrey replied and scowled even more deeply. "What are you planning?"

"I have orders for you, Geoffrey," Elincia said. "Ride to the Begnion camp as fast as you can. You alone, nobody else. Take this banner with you, so they recognize you as an emissary, not an attacker."

"Even I would question your sanity if you sent me to attack the Begnion reserves on my own," Geoffrey commented, "though I might just obey, depending on my mood that day." He shook his head forcefully. "So I'm supposed to negotiate with Valtome? What do you want to tell him that you didn't tell him two days ago?"

"You will tell the esteemed Senator that the queen has come to her senses and offers her sincerest apologies," Elincia said, and had to hold back a grin when she saw Geoffrey's jaw drop. "And that she has brought the Royal Knights to assist him against the laguz..." she hesitated. "No, the sub-humans. Say sub-humans. He'll like that."

"Now I must question your sanity, Your Highness," Geoffrey said sharply, and looked around nervously. While they were surrounded by Crimean knights on both sides, all of them knew to exercise discretion when the queen and her general were talking. Only Bertram who was towering nearby appeared to have heard, but he did not seem to care at all. "If anybody had heard you speaking of surrender, there would be..." He struggled for words for a second, open-mouthed, but did not find them. "It would have been bad for morale," he finally said, probably finding his own phrasing woefully inappropriate.

"Oh, Geoffrey," Elincia sighed. "Do you honestly think I would bend my knees to that self-centered, murderous fop." In response, Geoffrey stared at her blankly, then lowered his head in shame.

"It's a ruse, of course," he said. "My apologies for thinking so little of your resolve, Your Highness."

"Thanks, but there'll be time for apologies later," Elincia said and cast a hurried glance at the battlefield-to-be. The laguz army had already dispatched a messenger who was moving swiftly toward the Royal Knights, and the Imperials would surely do the same any minute now. "Besides, I'll have to do the apologizing, because it is you who'll kneel before Valtome."

"Kneel before...?" Geoffrey looked utterly shocked, but collected himself instantly. "The things I'll do for you," he grumbled.

"I think you'll like this one," Elincia said happily. "As soon as you're close to him, grab Valtome and drag him to your horse. Threaten to break his neck if his guards so much as come close. Order them to pull back from this place immediately and await further instructions if they don't want to lose their precious senator. Then bring him here as fast as you can."

"So that's your plan," Geoffrey said with an approving nod. "It's insane, and against all rules of warfare and diplomacy." He grinned. "But I like it."

"It's very dangerous," Elincia agreed, "and it's not guaranteed to work. But I trust that you can do it."

"I'll be off right now, Your Majesty," Geoffrey said and brought his horse about. "Who shall be commanding the knights in my absence?" he asked. "Kieran... or him?" He nodded in the direction of Bertram.

"I think Kieran would be better," Elincia replied, "and I doubt Bertram has any pride to be injured. Just let him stand at the front line and look intimidating."

"Yes, he's good at that," Geoffrey agreed. "Keep yourself safe. I'll be back with Valtome as soon as I can." He did not ask what would happen then. He trusted her judgement, and that she knew how to deal with the ire of General Zelgius.

"There's one part of the plan I didn't tell you about, Geoffrey," Elincia whispered to herself once her knight was galloping eastward to abduct Valtome. "Because you would've told me it's far too dangerous, and your worry about me would just have distracted you... assuming you hadn't objected on moral grounds first." She firmly seized Atlas' reins and pulled twice, signalling him to prepare for a quick take-off, and he answered with an obedient snicker.

"Don't be surprised now," she called out to the knights around her. "I'm just making a quick overflight. Listen to Kieran's orders, and Geoffrey's, when he returns. I'll be back soon."

Without waiting for any of the men to reply or protest, Elincia pulled Atlas' reins a third time and her pegasus dashed forward with an agility that belied his advanced age. Seconds later, he had gained enough speed to take off, and the Queen of Crimea was soaring through the sky above her home country.

"The laguz, too, are in violation of Crimean territory," she said, though no one could hear her up here. "They were told not to bring their war to our doorsteps, but did they heed my warnings? King Tibarn has to be taught a lesson. I will not suffer his dangerous recklessness any further."

Elincia nestled herself against Atlas' mane, trying not to expose herself too much to the chill winds blowing at this height, and directed him toward the laguz encampment, situated in a small valley beyond the far end of the plain. She was not afraid that someone would try to attack her – her flowing green hair and white armor made it clear who this pegasus rider was. She had no idea what the soldiers on the ground – on all three sides – might be thinking right now, but she could not waste time on it: She had a mission to fulfill.

_I'm doing this on a hunch_, she reminded herself. _He may not even be in camp. But he's almost always around Tibarn, and I doubt he'd take him to the front lines in a fierce battle._

_And even if I return with empty hands, Geoffrey's prey is the more important one. Humbling Tibarn is not as important as safeguarding ourselves against the Empire._

But she still desperately wished to humble the Hawk King. He had aided her against Daein three years ago, but more and more did Elincia tend toward the conclusion that he had done it for his own, violent reasons, and not because he had wished to help her. He had been the one to start this war, and though she still had some respect for him – much more than for that revolting Valtome, at the very least – she intended to go through with her plan, even though Tibarn would surely hold her in contempt from this day forth if she did it.

Atlas reached the laguz encampment within less than ten minutes – he was the queen's personal mount, after all – and Elincia had him land right in the center of it. She was greeted immediately by a number of older hawk laguz in their human forms, eyeing her with surprise, but no distrust. They were probably veterans of the Mad King's War who had seen the then-princess with their own eyes, and recognized her.

"I must speak to Prince Reyson immediately!" Elincia cried out after sliding off Atlas' back. "It's about Lehran's Medallion! Quickly! The fate of Tellius may depend on it!" It was a lie she had made up on her way here, and she trusted that it would have the intended effect: If anything was guaranteed to make Reyson rush to meet her at once, it was the mere mention of the Medallion that contained a dark god long since subdued.

"Prince Reyson isn't here, Your Highness," one of the hawks told Elincia, quickly overcoming his surprise at the queen's sudden arrival. "He insisted to accompany the king to the front lines. But the Lady Leanne... ah, there she comes!"

"Leanne is also here?" Elincia asked in surprise. She would have preferred Reyson – Leanne was far too sensitive, and she still recalled the last time the young heron woman had read her emotions. She had not liked it one bit.

_That means I have to act even more quickly..._

"Queen Elincia!" The heron princess came rushing toward her, her white wings fluttering in the breeze that blew threw the camp. Her ever-present guardian, the old raven Nealuchi, was nowhere to be seen, and Elincia was grateful for his absence: It would make things at least a little bit easier.

"Leanne!" Elincia called out, trying not to let anyone notice the anxiety that had beset her. She was about to commit a hostile act surrounded of hundreds of guards and reservists – she was in just as much danger as Geoffrey right now.

_I wonder if he's all right – no, I must focus on this!_

"Come over here, quickly!" Elincia said – she did not want to stray away from Atlas. Knowing Leanne's abilities, she tried to calm herself as much as she could, so that her thoughts and emotions would not betray her. She appeared to be successful, for Leanne did not hesitate or stop before reaching her. There she was, standing right before Elincia: A slender, no, delicate and almost fragile young woman, whose long, golden hair and beautiful white wings made her look like a figure of legend. Elincia deeply regretted what she was about to do, more so since Leanne was looking at her with wide, trusting eyes, but she would not waver in her resolve: She lunged forward, reached out with her left arm and seized Leanne's hand, immediately pulling the Heron princess toward her. At the same time she drew a hidden dagger from her belt and put the blade threateningly close to Leanne's throat.

"You're hurting me!" Leanne exclaimed, and Elincia found herself almost letting go and apologizing to her, so innocent was her voice: She had not even realized her abductor's intentions. Her disbelief was matched by that of the hawk soldiers around her: The winged laguz stared at the Queen of Crimea, utterly stupefied by her outrageous action. It gave Elincia the time she needed.

"Nobody moves!" she commanded, her voice loud and imperious, betraying none of the shame she was feeling at this moment. Holding Leanne's hand in an iron grip, she lowered the dagger just long enough to mount Atlas, then pulled at Leanne's arm with all her strength. The heron princess was light as a bird, and Elincia stronger than she looked (she had used to train with Sir Ike, after all), and though Leanne screamed in pain, Elincia managed to pull her on Atlas' back. Putting the dagger back against her throat was almost a superfluous gesture, since the young woman was not fighting back at all, too shocked and pained by Elincia's sudden betrayal, but it was for the benefit for the laguz around her. "What's the meaning of this treachery?" one of them called out, clenching his fists in impotent rage. "Has Crimea sided with the Empire?"

"Crimea is looking out for herself;" Elincia replied. "But I won't hurt her unless you force me to." There it was again, she thought idly, that disgusting phrase: 'You force me to. You make me do it. You leave me no choice.' It was the weakest excuse imaginable.

_I have a choice_, she reminded herself. _I simply choose the least of all possible evils... even if it means doing something despicable as this._ And another familiar thought reared its ugly head again in her mind: _I've done much worse things already._

"Make room for me to take off!" she demanded, "now!" Unlike the members of the bird tribe, pegasi could not simply launch themselves off the ground: They were too heavy for that and needed to gain some speed first before leaping into the air. For Elincia to make her escape, the hawks would have to allow it... and she prayed that they would.

"Why would we let you leave with the princess?" came the angry reply. "King Tibarn will be seething if he returns to find her gone!"

"He will be seething even more when he finds her dead," Elincia pointed out coldly, and felt Leanne's body pressed against hers erupt in a sudden trepidation: She was looking deep into her captor's heart, and the realization that Elincia was deadly serious made her shiver in fear.

_She was already abducted once, by the Black Knight. But this it's probably a far greater shock for her._

"All right," the hawk lieutenant said grudgingly and waved for his men to move out of Atlas' path. "First Kilvas sides with Begnion, and now Crimea." He spat out and glared at the queen. "Contemptible cowards, all of you."

_The raven tribe betrayed the laguz? That's the first I've heard of that. But there's no time for questions..._

"Fear not, Lady Leanne!" the hawk called out to Elincia's hostage even as he stepped out of Atlas' way; he was the last laguz to do so. "King Tibarn will come and save you!" Leanne nodded meekly, but mere assurances did nothing to ease her trembling. Pity welled up in Elincia, but she suppressed it with distressing ease. "Leave Tibarn to me," she told the hawk lieutenant. "You will all stay grounded while I make my escape, of course." Easing her grip on Leanne, who seemed virtually paralyzed by fear, anyway, Elincia took Atlas' reins with her free hand and had him dash forward immediately. Her mount raced through the laguz encampment, running over several small obstacles, and took to the sky as soon as he was fast enough to overcome the drag of the earth.

"Don't even think about escaping," Elincia told Leanne as the camp rapidly shrunk below them, trying to sound not as cold and unflinching as before. "I would catch you again before you reached safety." With a short, bitter laugh she recalled the aerial battle that had taken place a few weeks ago in the skies not too far from here. At that time, she had been fighting to prevent Begnion flyers from abducting Leanne, and now she had become an abductor herself. But Leanne was not in a condition to appreciate the cruel irony: She was still shivering in Elincia's grip, too devastated and afraid to even speak.

_Even if everything goes well and she survives this, I doubt she will ever want to be near me again, let alone talk to me. Another friend lost to me forever._

But this was no time to wallow in self-pity, but to focus on the next part of her dangerous gamble. Elincia had directed Atlas on a course back to the waiting knights, hoping that Geoffrey was on his way back with his own hostage, although she was still too far away to tell. The two armies below had still not clashed yet: The presence of the Crimean Royal Knights continued to make them uneasy, even though they could not yet know about their duplicitous intentions.

_Time to let them know, then. Or at least the laguz..._

"Ulki!" Elincia cried out, her voice lost in the vast skies, but surely not lost to the vaunted 'ears of the Hawk King'. "I trust that you can hear me, and that you are somewhere near Tibarn. Let him know, word for word, what I'm about to say." She paused for a few moments, so that Ulki had time to reach his king should he not be in his immediate vicinity. Admittedly, she had no guarantees at all that he was nearby, but he was one of Tibarn's most trusted lieutenants, so the probability was high.

"I have taken Leanne," she continued. "Let Janaff take a look at the sky and he will confirm it. Tell Tibarn that all of the hawks are to stay on the ground. If I see him, or anybody else take to the sky, they can try to catch Leanne's corpse before it hits the ground." Hearing her own words chilled Elincia to the bone, because she knew she could not bluff against Tibarn – she had to mean it. She had to be ready to kill Leanne, and trust that the Hawk King's need to protect the surviving herons was more important to him than the need to make war on Begnion. She was literally gambling her own life – if it came to it and she killed Leanne, she would have to deal with a raging Tibarn, and even though Atlas could be very agile if he needed to, she doubted he could evade the shredding claws of the Hawk King for long.

Leanne suddenly spoke up behind her, speaking in a frightened whisper and using the old language that Elincia could not understand. But the tone of her voice bore ominous portents, and sounded like a plea and a warning at a same time. She guessed that Leanne was telling Tibarn via Ulki that Elincia was dead serious, and that he should not try to free her.

"Now that he knows I'm serious," Elincia said when Leanne had fallen silent, "tell Tibarn to withdraw all troops from this place and withdraw his forces back to Gallia. That includes the Greil mercenaries, too, for as long as they are working for him. Wait beyond the border until I send an envoy to negotiate for Leanne's release." She almost added: "I'm sorry it had to be like this," but she knew better than that: Betraying such egregious emotional weakness would have undermined her threat, and would have suggested to Tibarn that she was only bluffing. "Do not attempt any tricks," she said instead, "or you'll live to regret it."

That was all she could say for now, since her communication with Tibarn via his lieutenant's worked in one direction only. But even as Atlas carried his mistress and her hostage swiftly toward the waiting knights, Elincia could see her words taking effect: The host of the laguz below started to move; slowly at first, owing to their large numbers, then faster, moving in the direction of their base camp. Only a small, motley group remained for a while, presumably to cover the main army's retreat should the Empire attack. Elincia did not have to fly lower to guess that this task had probably fallen to Ike and his men.

But their caution, justified though it was, proved unnecessary: Mere minutes after the laguz alliance had begun their swift retreat, the crimson tide that was the Imperial army suddenly ebbed away, as if they had suddenly lost all interest in the fight. Elincia's heart jumped for joy as she saw it, for it could only mean that Geoffrey had succeeded, and the commander in the field – General Zelgius, no doubt – had learned of Valtome's abduction and Crimea's demands. Once again, the General proved his utter loyalty by choosing the course of action that would preserve the life of his master.

Flying toward the edge of the grove where her knights were waiting, Elincia looked back several times to reassure herself that everything was going as planned. After a few minutes, when it became apparent that the retreat of Begnion's forces was not a deception, the Greil Mercenaries, too, turned around and left the would-be battlefield. Elincia allowed herself a relieved sigh: Although this crisis was far from over, her plan had worked so far.

_If the battle had been joined, Sir Ike and General Zelgius probably would have clashed_, she thought idly_, and one of them would not have walked away from that fight. I did them a favor – all of the soldiers, on both sides. This plain would be running red with blood now if not for my intervention._

Of course Elincia was not so deluded as to actually expect anything resembling gratitude for her actions: Both Tibarn and Zelgius were bound to be livid, and if she would have to play her cards very well indeed to prevent either side from harboring any long-term hatreds against Crimea. _But at least I have two trump cards now_, she thought, spending a moment to pity the one of her trump cards who was trembling and softly crying behind her. Seeing as she still had to be ready to kill her at a moment's notice if Tibarn made any rescue attempt, Elincia had no words of comfort to offer to her, and remained silent so as not to lie.

_Did it have to be like this?_ she wondered. _Could I have prevented the fighting any other way?_

Her old, far more scrupulous self would probably have tried something else, Elincia decided after a moment's reflection. Perhaps she would have tried to impress both sides with a dramatic gesture, a passionate plea for peace. _Yes_, she thought with a hint of nostalgia. _That certainly sounds like the old me. _

But things were different now. Elincia's way was different now.

And the world would soon get used to it.


	15. Blue Fire

**Chapter 15: Blue Fire**

The afternoon sun was hanging low in the sky when Elincia reached the outskirts of Melior. Atlas had carried both her and her captive all the way from the border regions to the capital with only a short break on the ground. Traveling through the air was the faster, but also more exerting way for pegasi to cross long distances, but Elincia had not pushed Atlas without good reason: Leanne, who had started to cry softy at some point, had grown limp in Elincia's grip about halfway to Melior. The queen had landed and tried to rouse her captive from unconsciousness, but her efforts had been futile, forcing her to hurry onward to Melior as fast as possible.

Feelings of guilt and depravity, already her constant companions for some time, had gnawed at Elincia during the remainder of her flight, for even though Leanne was alive and probably not in serious danger – she could feel the weak, but steady thumping of her heart when she pressed her arm against her hostage's chest – both her body and spirit were bound to be suffering terribly, and the least she could do was to accommodate her in a warm room inside the Royal Palace. The constant draft of cold air was making even Elincia shiver, in spite of her padded armor, while Leanne wore only a thin white dress and was visibly shivering.

_No use worrying about her now_, Elincia told herself, _since we're almost at the palace. She'll be as comfortable there as we can make her... or at least her body will be._

Elincia usually enjoyed flying a great deal, and she loved to marvel at the towns and fields and forests of Crimea as she flew above them. Everything was so small from up high, and all the troubles that plagued her and her people were invisible. The sight of the beautiful capital city in particular always served to refresh her body and mind, but not today – not when she was returning home an abductor. She signalled Atlas with her knees to descend, which was almost unnecessary, since he had made the landing approach many times before, and probably could have done it blind.

"You'll be able to rest soon," Elincia said, addressing both her mount and her hostage, as the palace grounds grew rapidly larger below. There would be no rest for her, though – she had to formulate a plan of action immediately. She had told both Begnion and the laguz alliance to wait for her word before they sent messengers to negotiate, but she did not expect either side to actually be so patient. In addition, both sides were surely drawing up plans for a clandestine rescue operation right now – she would have to take every precaution to prevent any such attempts as soon as the two hostages were safely inside the palace.

_Geoffrey and the Royal Knights should arrive during the night, bringing Valtome along with them_, Elincia recapitulated. She had not seen Geoffrey since giving him the orders to abduct the Senator: When she had landed with her hostage, he had been riding at full speed toward the waiting knights along the edge of the plain, with no signs of pursuit, and a white-robed human shape flung over the back of his horse. Elincia had taken that as confirmation that he had been successful in his mission and, via Kieran, had relayed to him the order to return to Melior immediately upon his arrival. Then she had taken flight again, citing the urgent need to bring Leanne somewhere more comfortable, though she simply might have wished to avoid Geoffrey: She did not want to be seen by him holding the innocent Heron princess captive against her will. It was an utterly pointless fear, since Kieran must have told Geoffrey about it minutes after her departure, but she had left anyway, perhaps fearing his next judgement of her character.

_He will understand_, she assured herself. _And if he doesn't... then he will do as he must._

Elincia was pulled away from her dreary thoughts by Atlas' suddenly snicker: his customary warning to his mistress to brace herself for the landing. Grateful for this distraction Elincia clenched her teeth – her instructor had told her many a horrid story about novice flyers biting off their tongues while landing – and wrapped one hand around Atlas' neck, the other around Leanne's limp body. They were going to touch down in the palace gardens that were famed in all of Tellius for their beautiful design, though Atlas had been known to damage a hedge or two during his recent landings – his waning precision was another sign of him growing old.

A familiar tremor traveled through Elincia's body when they hit the ground, but she was a reasonably experienced flyer and did not lose her hold on either Atlas or Leanne. An often-recalled memory flashed past her mind's eye: How she had clumsily slid out of the saddle during her first landing and hurt her back, openly displaying her pain and frustration to her instructor as well as Lucia, who had been watching to encourage her. If the same thing were to happen again today, she thought idly as Atlas came to a halt, she would get up immediately without so much as a tear instead of crying in pain and letting herself be comforted by Lucia.

_I really was a pampered princess back then_, she thought not for the first time in recent weeks. _But even if I could go back in time, I wouldn't change the tiniest thing. I may have lost my right to a happy future, but nobody can take my past from me!_

Snorting loudly, Atlas came to a halt, not having damaged any of the flora this time around. Elincia looked up and noticed that, by sheer coincidence, he had landed right next to the very spot where King Ashnard had met his end three years ago. It was marked with a small plaque made from black onyx, though that plaque did not commemorate the Mad King rather than Rajaion, the laguz whom he had brutally enslaved and who had died along with his cruel master. Leanne and her brother had been there, singing the galdr of release to restore the dragon's sanity for a short while before he passed away.

_I will make her sing for Bertram as soon as I can make the time_, Elincia decided. She had little hope that it would work, but she owed it to the man he had once been that she at least try. However, any such attempt would have to wait, since Leanne was in no condition to sing, let alone stand on her own feet: She was still hanging slumped before Elincia, prevented from falling only by her abductor's firm grip. Carefully, the Queen of Crimea climbed off Atlas' back while holding Leanne in place, then let her slide into her arms, light as a feather.

"Queen Elincia!" a familiar voice called out to her left, and Elincia turned around to face the owner. It was Marcia, the young pegasus knight who had served Begnion, then the Greil Mercenaries, then Begnion again for a short while, and finally Crimea. She came running toward Elincia on a path between two tall hedges, wearing full armor and sweating profusely. She often trained her endurance by running rounds and rounds through the palace gardens, Elincia knew, since she had joined her several times throughout the years, marveling at the woman's fitness as she tried to keep up with her.

"Hello, Marcia," she greeted her while making an awkward half-turn; she instinctively wished to hide Leanne from her sight. But she quickly realized the futility of that effort, since Marcia must have seen the heron princess already, even if she had not had the sharp eyes that were required of every aspiring pegasus knight.

"Holy asparagus, isn't that Princess Leanne?" Marcia had come to a stop right in front of Elincia, eyeing her hostage with great concern. Her breath was steadier than it had any right to be. "Is she sick?"

"Not... not really," Elincia stuttered. _Damn it! For all my oh-so-cunning plans, I didn't once think about how I should explain this!_ "She'll be fine once I get her inside," she added hastily, staring at the hedges behind Marcia's head.

"Whatever happened? Oh, I know it!" Marcia scowled deeply as she always did when she was agitated. "She was captured by the Begnion troops rampaging through Crimea, and you saved her!"

"That's... not quite how it went," Elincia said and gulped. Should she just tell Marcia a lie? No, that would not do: Not just because she considered the young woman a friend, but also because she could not hope to keep up that lie, at least not once Geoffrey and his knights returned. However, she did not need to tell the truth _right now_, did she?

"I can tell you the details another time... if you really want to know. Right now I need to get her inside."

"I'll carry her for you... oops, wait," Marcia said, making and retracting her offer in a single breath. "You're perfectly capable of doing that on your own, right?" she asked, her cheeks already red from exertion, or else she might have blushed. "I'm sorry."

"If I had a piece of gold for every time somebody apologized to me, I could abolish all taxes on the spot," Elincia grumbled in a bout of sour humor, in spite of the situation.

"I'm sorry," Marcia repeated, "I just remembered I'm not supposed to treat you like you're weak. I think all my blood is in my legs right now, not my brain. Sorry."

"Since you remembered, it's fine," Elincia told her, eager to get inside if only for Leanne's sake. "I'll see you around."

"Whee... phew... whee..." A series of wheezing sounds stopped Elincia in her tracks just as she had begun to walk toward the closest entrance to the palace building. It was coming from behind Marcia and was slowly growing louder. It seemed vaguely like a sound a human would make... a very exhausted one, at least.

"There you are, slowpoke," Marcia said, raising her voice as she turned her back toward Elincia. "I was starting to think you only fell behind so you could sneak away!"

"Phew... very... funny." A male voice sounded from behind Marcia. "You... you horse in human disguise! Nobody... should run... like that... whee..."

"Stop whining and and stand up straight! Her majesty is here!" Marcia looked over her shoulder at Elincia and made an apologetic face, then stepped aside to reveal her fellow runner. Like her, he was wearing full armor and his curly, pink hair was stuck to his sweaty face; he was visibly much more exhausted than Marcia, squatting on the ground and gasping for breath, not acknowledging Elincia at all.

"Stand up," Marcia growled, "or I'll..." Instead of uttering a threat, she put her palm against her forehead and sighed. "You're useless. _So_ useless. Please forgive my oaf of a brother," she added while looking at Elincia. "I'm trying to get him into better fighting shape, but it seems the only time he's good at running is when he's dodging an assignment."

"Don't show him any mercy," Elincia told Marcia while directing a disapproving look toward her brother. "Geoffrey has received more than one complaint about you sluggishness, Makalov, so I suggest you follow your sister's example."

"It's hopeless," Marcia sighed. "No matter how hard I try, I can't turn him into a respectable knight."

"Then perhaps it's time he thought about a different career path," Elincia suggested more harshly than she intended. "Not everybody is cut out to be a knight," she added in a more gentle tone. "It's no shame to admit that."

"I'm not sure he even heard that," Marcia growled, "but I'll tell him for you. Don't let him delay you anymore."

"Right," Elincia nodded and looked at Leanne who was still resting unconsciously in her arms. "I'll be on my way then." Turning her back on the exercising siblings, she walked away, leaving Atlas to enjoy a break in the gardens (and perhaps the taste of the flowers); she could return him to his stables later. She made for the closest entrance into the palace building, passing two saluting guards as she entered, and directed her steps toward the guest rooms – the thought of throwing Leanne into the dark, damp dungeon was inconceivable.

_But she's not a guest, no matter how comfortable her room_, Elincia thought. _She's a prisoner, and she must be guarded._ By sheer chance, she ran into a young messenger boy on her way, and told him to send a guard to meet her at the guest rooms. She was first to arrive, though, after carrying Leanne up three flights of stairs and down several corridors. Pressing down the handle with her right elbow, she opened the door to the first of five rooms reserved for royal guests, all currently unused.

"There you go," Elincia said after gently lowering Leanne onto the large bed. Staring at the motionless young woman and the slow rising and falling of her chest, she decided to have her personal physician take a look at her later. Members of the heron clan were prone to illness, she had been told, and both her guilty conscience and cold reason demanded that she keep her hostage alive and healthy.

_I wonder if I should wake her up? I don't want her to awaken at a later time, all alone in a locked room... but on the other hand, she probably needs all the rest she can get after her ordeal._

Elincia noticed that beads of sweat were running down Leanne's face and picked up a piece of cloth to wipe it dry. Afraid that the heron princess might be suffering from fever, she stripped off her gloves and put her hand against Leanne's forehead, but her temperature did not seem higher than it should. _Probably just cold sweat from nightmares_, Elincia decided. _Though that's not much better than fever._

While Elincia was still berating herself, a member of the palace guard arrived, announcing his presence by knocking against the half-open door with his plated fist. "I await your orders, Your Majesty," the man said formally, his massive jaw and crooked nose the only features visible under a helmet that covered most of his face.

"This woman is a valued hostage to Crimea," she informed him. "She may not leave this room without my permission."

"I understand," the guard said, and only now turned his attention from his queen to the person he had been assigned to guard. "She's a laguz," he said in a surprised tone. "A... a heron?"

"Indeed she is," Elincia confirmed his observation. "Is that a problem?"

"No, I just... I've never seen a heron before," the man muttered, turning to face his queen again.

"I'd be surprised if you had," Elincia replied. "There are very few of them left."

_And I went and abducted one of them! The Serenes massacre sent King Lorazieh into a permanent coma, and even if it's not on the same level, being betrayed like this might leave Leanne permanently wounded, in spirit if not in the flesh._

"At any rate," Elincia said while shaking her head almost imperceptibly to drive off the gnawing guilt at least for a short while, "while she is a hostage, she is to be treated like an honored guest. If she has any requests, listen to them and confer them to me. I'll do what I can to accommodate her."

"Unless she wants you to let you go, I reckon," the guard said.

"I'm glad you understand the situation," Elincia quipped back, almost happily. A soldier who did not apologize for every careless remark? Miracles still could happen, at least small ones.

"What about the window?" the man pointed out. "We're in the fourth story, but... well, she _has _wings."

"Good thinking," Elincia replied. "I'll send someone to install a grate later. Until then, you should stay in the room with her." She wanted to give him some more instructions, but was interrupted by a soft moan coming from the bed.

"She's waking up," the guard said and made two large steps toward the bed, positioning himself right next to it, his lance firmly in hand. "Perhaps you should go now?"

"There's no need to be so tense. I guarantee you she won't offer us any violence," Elincia told him.

"The herons are said to have strange magics," he countered. "I don't fear weapons made of steel, but sorcery is a different business."

"She won't do anything," Elincia repeated. _She's probably far too intimidated to even consider it._ "If she does, it won't be on your head."

"That won't be much of a comfort if she lights me on fire," the guard pointed out, though probably more for argument's sake than out of any real fear, if his tone was any indication.

"Seid magic doesn't work like that," Elincia said. "Be silent now! She's moving!"

Obediently, the soldier fell silent, and both of them watched Leanne sit up in her bed while softly talking to herself in the ancient tongue. Her eyes were unfocused, and she seemed not yet to have realized where she was. Elincia thought she could hear the name Nealuchi in her words, but she was not sure.

"E... Elincia," Leanne suddenly said, her eyes opening wide with sudden recollection. "You... why did you..." She stared at the queen with both fear and confusion. "I... I don't understand."

"It's difficult to explain," Elincia said, unsure of what to tell her hostage. _The truth, of course! _she scolded herself _She deserves at least this._ But she found it hard to speak the words 'You're my prisoner' to a completely innocent person.

"Can't you read it in my heart?" she asked. That would be an easy way out, but if Leanne could feel Elincia's regret at her actions coupled with the cold determination to do what needed to be done for Crimea's sake, then perhaps words were not needed after all.

But Leanne was not so forthcoming. Instead, she muttered something in the ancient tongue and moved her hand to her right hip, where something that looked like a pocket was sewn into her robe. But before she could reach it, her arm was caught by the massive gauntlet of the guard who had eyed her every movement with suspicion. She winced in pain or surprise or both and tried to struggle against the man, who promptly let go of his lance and seized her right arm with his other hand. "Careful, Your Highness," he said.

"What do you think you're doing?" Elincia snapped at him. _Don't treat her so roughly!_ she wanted to add, but then she recalled how she had grabbed Leanne and dragged her onto her pegasus only a few hours ago. Who was she to talk?

"She could have been reaching for a weapon, or a magic item," the guard defended his actions. Letting go of one of Leanne's hands, he tried to reach into her pocket, but found his gauntlet too unwieldy, so he took it off.

"I really don't think she has a weapon or anything of the sort," Elincia said, but was hesitant to make the soldier stop his investigation; she knew that the guard's job was to, well, _guard_ her, and she would rather not make that job more difficult. "Check it, but be gentle."

"No!" Leanne's voice was suddenly a piercing scream. "You mustn't!" She tried to drag the guard's arm away with her free hand, but she was nowhere near strong enough, and the man forced his left hand into her pocket. "There's something in there all right," he said, struggling to fit his large hand into the pocket without ripping it open. "I almost got it..."

Elincia watched the scene with growing unease, wondering why Leanne was so agitated. What was it that she could be carrying...

_No! No, not THAT!_

Realization struck her, and Elincia lunged toward the guard, trying to seize his arm, but it was too late: With a strangely gleeful grin, the guard withdrew his hand from Leanne's pocket. Clasped between his fingers, there was a small, disk-shaped trinket, emitting a weak blue glow.

"Drop it!" Elincia screamed, though she dared not try to take the medallion from him. "Drop it now!" But the widening grin on the soldier's face told her that it was too late, as did the radiance of the blue flame between his fingers. With an exultant howl that sounded as if he had just been freed from the deepest dungeon ever built, he pushed against Elincia with all his considerable strength, making her lose hold of his arm and sending her staggering backwards. Then he dropped to one knee and picked up his lance, turning it against Leanne who was staring at him with her eyes wide open and her whole body trembling in terror.

"Look at me!" Elincia screamed at the guard and drew Amiti from its scabbard while lunging forward again, aiming for his right elbow. With a speed that defied his heavy armor he spun around and turned his lance toward Elincia, forcing her to dodge to the side and crash into an empty shelf on the wall, carried by her own momentum. He immediately followed up with a lightning-fast thrust at her, and all she could do was dodge again while she tried to regain her balance and gain some distance.

_Damn it! This shouldn't have happened! I should have guessed that she was carrying the medallion with her! I should have–_

The sound of a lance whizzing an inch past her head and hitting the wall convinced Elincia to postpone closer examination of her failures until this crisis was over; right now, she had to use every bit of her concentration just to stay alive. Before she could try to seize its shaft, her possessed opponent had withdrawn the lance and made another jab at her. This time, rather than dodging, she deflected it with her sword.

"Listen to me, man!" Elincia did not know the guards name, and she doubted that it would have helped any. "You have to fight this urge!" She parried three successive attacks, each one coming faster than the one before, and her blade left only shallow scratches in the thick wooden shaft. If she intended to cut it, she needed more momentum – but the mad guard did not give her any time to swing her sword in a wide enough arc, so badly was he pressing her.

"Don't let it control you!" she tried again, slowly moving backwards toward the door, hoping that perhaps she could lure the crazed guard away from Leanne. "Fight it!"

But the soldier did not desist and continued to bear down on Elincia with his lance. For all his mindless savagery, he did not make a single sound other than his heavy breathing, and did not utter so much as a single word. The medallion had complete control over him.

_It's no use,_ Elincia finally admitted to herself. _Even Sir Greil couldn't fight the power of the medallion when he was in his prime..._

_Curses! Why do all these terrible things have to happen? Why does the–_

Elincia's thoughts were interrupted when the soldier's lance finally hit its target, tearing the skin and flesh of her left arm. She grunted in pain but kept up her defense, her fencing style relying only on the right arm that wielded the sword.

_But I can't just defend myself. I have to counterattack, or I'll suffer another wound! _But could she really fight against one of her own Crimean soldiers? Not one who had willingly rebelled against her, but one whose mind was controlled by irresistible madness?

_If I could cut off his hand. That would be the end of it while still leaving him alive. If he loses the medallion, he should return to his senses._

With a series of quick lunges that Lucia had taught her, Elincia went on the offensive, and she was able to inflict a small cut on her opponent's left wrist. But her attacks lacked the strength to sever his hand outright, and his rapid attacks did not allow her to muster a more powerful strike. Unwilling to attempt a lethal blow, Elincia's resolve wavered, and she lost the initiative again. Her passiveness was soon punished when she recieved a stab wound in her left thigh. It was not even very deep, but it hurt every time she shifted her weight to her left leg. Things were not going well.

"Stop! Don't hurt her!" Leanne's voice suddenly sounded from behind the guard, and two pale hands seized his left fist from behind, trying to loosen his grasp on the medallion. With a deep growl, the first sound since his initial howl, he spun around and slammed his right elbow into her face, sending her sprawling to the floor with a faint cry.

But in striking down Leanne, the guard had left his side wide open to Elincia. Without thinking, she seized this opportunity, her mind emptied of everything except the gap between his chest and back armor, and the path that her sword had to travel to reach it. With a single lunging step she thrust Amiti forward and buried it deep into her opponent's side.

The power of Lehran's Medallion was such that he did not even scream in pain, but it could not protect him against cold steel. The soldier dropped his lance and toppled over, falling flat on his stomach right next to Leanne. His left fist was buried beneath his chest, as if he wished to guard the medallion even now, but it was over. Elincia stared at him in confusion, her hands empty, her blade still stuck in his body. Had she really killed him? The events of the battle five seconds past were already blurrying in her mind, coalescing with other unpleasant memories of blood and screams and death. But even so, the reality before her could not be denied.

_I had to take that chance! _she told herself._ I couldn't wait for another chance at his hand! I couldn't... _

_Oh damn it all!_

Taking deep, regular breaths, Elincia managed to keep her emotions under control and decided to focus on the living, not on the dead. Leanne was lying still on the floor, her fall softened by the guest room's thick carpet, and the movement of her chest indicated that she was still alive. Careful not to step on the body of the man she had just slain, Elincia walked over to Leanne and picked her up, returning her to the bed from which she had jumped to her abductor's aid after overcoming her fear. She carefully felt the back of Leanne's head, but there was no bleeding, only a slight bruise.

"She'll be fine," Elincia said out loud, as if to reassure herself. "Just fine."

_As fine as she can be, locked away in a golden cage_, she immediately corrected herself. By all rights, she should let Leanne go out of gratitude for aiding her, but that was not acceptable: She had taken a great risk to abduct her, and she would not find a hostage of similar value anytime soon.

"No good deed goes unpunished," Elincia whispered and let out a bitter laugh. _That goes for you, too_, she added in her mind and turned her attention to the dead guard. _This is how your service to Crimea is rewarded – with death at the hand of your own queen._

Elincia knew she was being too hard on herself, at least in this particular situation; the power of Lehran's Medallion was well established and could not be denied. She could not have hoped to reason with the possessed soldier, and hoping for a change to disarm or otherwise disable him would only have placed her own life, and that of Leanne, at risk.

_I chose the least harmful action and still somebody died. Well, I should be used to it by now._

With a weary sigh, Elincia knelt down next to the dead soldier and gently turned his body around. His helmet had come partially unhinged by the impact of his fall, and she bent over to remove it completely, revealing a broad face with several large birthmarks and thinning brown hair. He bore an expression of utter elation that not even death had tarnished, as if he had just had the most exhilarating experience of his life that had been well worth the price of his untimely demise.

The man had surely been a reliable soldier, or else he would not have become a member of the palace guard. And yet he had turned insane immediately, without hesitation, without even the appearance of fighting it. That was the power of Lehran's medallion, the power that affected all living things, beorc or laguz, men or women, the weak and the strong; all except a very select few who could touch it without losing themselves.

Elincia had once wondered whether she was one of those selected few, three years ago during a conversation with Mist, who had been carrying the medallion at that time. It had been a tempting thought back then – believing yourself so balanced that you could resist the power that drove everybody else insane. But even at that time, Elincia had not been so arrogant to actually try and touch the medallion (not that Mist would have allowed it), and now that she actually had the opportunity, she could only shudder at the thought. She had already suffered enough calamities; she did not have to invite even more by tempting fate.

Carefully, _very_ carefully, Elincia unclenched the fingers of the dead man's left hand, one after the other, until she had uncovered the medallion resting on his palm. It was still emitting a faint glow, like a small blue flame, and she recalled that the medallion was also sometimes called the 'Fire Emblem'. It represented extreme danger, both to the individual who touched it as well as to the entire continent whenever the dogs of war were allowed to run unchecked. There were no appreciable advantages to the person who carried it, and yet Elincia could not simply give it back to Leanne.

_Who knows, it might make for a valuable bargaining chip one day_, she thought as she took a decorative piece of cloth from a small night stand and used it to carefully wrap the medallion with it. _As long as I keep it on my person and treat it with due caution, there's little chance of anything bad happening._

And even though she could not shake the fear that she was damning herself by doing so, Elincia carefully picked up Lehran's Medallion and placed it into a pouch fastened to her belt.


	16. The Last Laugh

**Chapter 16: The Last Laugh**

Even before receiving Valtome, Elincia was already in a bad mood as she sat on her throne and waited for the arrival of the captive senator. She had spent the afternoon in Leanne's room, watching over her other hostage in place of the guard who she had killed herself, refusing to answer any of Leanne's question after she had awoken again, be it out of shame or because the heron princess could simply read her mind to get all the answers. And that was what she had done – only to offer, out of the blue, to sing the galdr of rebirth for Bertram. She had offered it out of her own volition, out of the goodness of her heart, so to speak, even though Elincia had forcefully abducted her and threatened her with death. It seemed that nothing could shake her kind and generous nature.

Her attempt had failed, naturally. Elincia had kept her expectations low, and when repeated attempt to reach whatever fragment of her uncle's soul might be left in his body had failed (with Leanne blaming herself for that failure!), she had finally given up. A strange feeling of relief had overcome Elincia then – that she had done everything in her power to help her uncle, and that she could now truly think of him as gone from this world. Her own emotions upset her – should she not be angry or sad or despairing? But no, she had almost gladly accepted Renning's new persona as permanent – as though he was more useful as Bertram than as a fair and noble crown prince. Anxious to distract herself from this matter, Elincia had ordered Valtome brought before her for the purpose of negotiations. But she still could not shake the feeling that she was giving up on her uncle too soon, which only served to increase her miserable disposition.

Giving up on her uncle was not the only thing contributing to Elincia's bad mood: The deadly incident with Lehran's Medallion, only a few hours in the past, was still fresh in her memory as well. Part of her wished only to forget about it, but another, stronger part insisted that she always remember what had happened, to remind her that carelessness had consequences. For it had been her carelessness that had ultimately cost the guardsman his life.

_Rest assured, Caros_, she addressed the dead guard, whose name she had inquired later, in her mind, _something like this will not happen again._

Elincia had decided to receive Valtome in the throne room – a deliberate reversal of their meeting several days ago, and she hoped that the Senator would realize that the situation had changed drastically since then. But even in case of a positive outcome, the coming meeting was sure to be an unpleasant one, since Valtome was bound to be in a horrid mood that could surely match even hers. A shouting match was not just likely, but almost inevitable, and whether the meeting would produce any tangible results was an open question.

Even though it was not at all comfortable to move in, Elincia had not yet found the time to take off her armor, and the wounds she had suffered in the short fight with the mad guard had only been bandaged hastily. Her sword Amiti was resting across the throne's arm rests, making it impossible for her to stand up without removing it first; it would send a signal to Valtome that he should try his best not to anger her – for if she should rise, it would be with her sword in hand. She had not cleaned the blade of Caros' blood, either – that, too, should have an intimidating effect on Valtome.

The door to the throne room was opened, and in stepped Geoffrey – the only one who was allowed to do so unannounced. This sort of special treatment was probably the main reason for the many rumors about him and the queen being closer than they should, but Elincia had long since stopped caring about such tales. Geoffrey quickly closed the door behind him, but Elincia could still hear the outraged shouting coming from the antechamber – Senator Valtome, raving about his mistreatment and the sheer audacity of it all.

"I can hear you fulfilled your assignment," she said as Geoffrey stepped toward, still wearing his riding armor and an unreadable expression on his face. "I'm glad to see you were not injured," she added with a smile.

"My men told me about what you did," Geoffrey said, his voice calm and measured. "I am disappointed."

Elincia felt like her heart stopped beating for a second when she heard his words. She had finally done something worthy of his disapproval. And how could she blame him? She had _insisted_ that he continue to judge her, and evidently, by abducting an innocent, terrified young woman, she had gone too far in Geoffrey's eyes.

_It is only reasonable that he condemn me for this_, she thought soberly. _But what will he do now? Leave my service? _

_Would I even let him go?_

"I will make no excuses," Elincia said after a few moment's consideration. "But I thought it was necessary, and I still think so."

"Why was it necessary?" Geoffrey asked, raising his voice louder than he usually did. "Did I somehow offend you? Treat you as weak or fragile? Did you want to show me what it feels like to be cushioned from reality?" As he spoke, he ascended the tree steps to the throne, and now stood directly in front of Elincia, with only Amiti separating the two. "Please answer me!"

"I... I..." Elincia stared at Geoffrey towering over her, at a loss for words. She wanted to stand up and look him in the eyes, but could not rise without first removing her sword from its position, and she was afraid that he might misjudge her intentions if she seized the hilt of the already bloodied blade. "I don't know what you mean by all this," she admitted, utterly confused. "Weren't you talking about Leanne?"

"Leanne?" Geoffrey looked confused; evidently he had no idea what the queen was talking about. He looked down at her for a few seconds, and a look of understanding came over him.

"I see," he said simply. "But that is not what I meant."

"Then what _did_ you mean?" Elincia asked sharply and planted her hands firmly on the arm rests. "Explain yourself!" she demanded with an imperious gesture.

"My apologies," Geoffrey said and moved backwards down the steps, but it was an apology only for not making himself clear, not for his misgivings toward her, Elincia knew. "I will now clarify things."

"By all means," Elincia said, already feeling sorry for her outburst. But she had never seen Geoffrey angry at her, and had not been prepared for the emotions that had overcome her in reaction to his anger. "Speak up."

"Why did you not tell me that you were taking a second hostage, and doing it by yourself?" Geoffrey asked. His voice was noticeably agitated, but he still spoke with careful precision, as if he felt that he was doing his outrage a disservice by not explaining it carefully. "It was not a spontaneous decision – you were planning to take a laguz hostage from the very beginning! So why didn't you tell me?"

"That is why you're angry?" Elincia asked, not even trying to hide her surprise. "Not because of what I did, but because I didn't tell you?" _That makes no sense at all! Or perhaps I just don't understand it..._

"At first I thought that you'd been afraid I might try to stop you," Geoffrey continued his explanation, ignoring her question. "But that could not be it – you would not hide your action from me out of fear of my judgement, not after our conversation on that very subject! So I knew you must have had another reason for not telling me." He took a deep breath before continuing. "You thought that my concern about your safety would distract me, and cause me to blunder during my mission. Am I right?"

_So that was where he was coming from_, Elincia realized. "You are right," she said, and promptly found herself surprised at how easy she had admitted it. But it was the truth, was it not? That had been her exact reasoning, and she would not deny it. "That's what I feared," she added. "Was I wrong?"

"We have fought side by side in several bloody battles," Geoffrey said in lieu of a direct answer. "During those battles, you have often taken risks that I deemed too great... but they were yours to take. And I will not even try to pretend that I was not sick with worry every time you rushed off somewhere to aid a wounded soldier, or fill a gap that had opened in our formation."

"So I was right," Elincia answered her own question. "You would have been worried! So if you see why I didn't tell you, why are you still angry?"

"Because I'd rather worry than not know," Geoffrey spat out. "Is that so hard to understand? Do you think I'm so easily distracted that I can not worry about you and focus on the task at hand at the same time?"

"But you should have your full attention–"

"There is no such thing as full attention," Geoffrey interrupted her. "People are always worried during battle – that they might die, or that their side could lose, or that they should somehow fail their comrades. Worrying about you would be a far more worthy concern than any of those others."

"But even if your concern about me doesn't distract you, it won't _help_ you in any way," Elincia said. "There's no reason not to tell you, but no reason to tell you, either." She felt that her argument was weak even as she made it, but she could still not quite grasp the cause for Geoffrey's anger.

"But there is a reason," her knight replied earnestly. "When you ride into danger, I must know about it, so I can prepare myself for the possibility that you won't come back. Because if I prepared myself, then I could cope with it even if the unthinkable happened." He hesitated before continuing, suddenly avoiding Elincia's gaze. "But if you were to suffer harm or worse... without me being ready for it... I fear the shock might be too much for me to bear." He laughed weakly. "Heh. I guess this _is_ about my weakness, after all."

"I think I'm beginning to understand now," Elincia said, and was once again reminded of Geoffrey's recent confession of love – a love that she requited, but that could never be, as just punishment for the sins she had committed and the ones she would yet commit. "But there won't always be an opportunity to tell you," she said.

"Not always," Geoffrey agreed. "And I would never suggest that you had to go out of your way to keep me informed about all your doings." He gulped visibly, something Elincia had never seen him do before. "But today, I was _right there_, and it would just have taken a moment to tell me where you were going. And yet you didn't." He breathed out slowly, visibly relieved to have let it all out. "That's why I'm disappointed." His anger was all gone, and only a strange impression of vulnerability remained. Elincia found herself looking at him longingly for a second, wishing to comfort him, but she quickly realized that he did not expect comfort: He expected her to make a promise.

"I understand now that I've been patronizing you," she said. "I told you not to treat me as weak, yet I did the exact same thing to you." She lowered her head. "I apologize with all my heart."

"I... I accept your apology," Geoffrey said quickly, perhaps surprised by the extent of Elincia's contrition. "And I thank you for not apologizing before you understood the reasons for my anger."

"We both know the dangers that each of our positions bring," Elincia said, raising her head high once again. "We both know that at any time, either of us might die. And if that happens, the other will live on. _Must_ live on."

"I swear that I will," Geoffrey said solemnly.

"Then I swear the same," Elincia replied.

_We just exchanged vows of a sort._

The thought came unbidden to her mind, but she chased it away without hesitation. "So, uh... what do you think about Leanne? I mean... about the fact that I took her hostage."

"She is nowhere as deserving of captivity as Valtome is," came Geoffrey's reply. "But you burden yourself too much by thinking her entirely innocent. She was in a military camp at a time of war. She knew the risks... or should have, in any case." He sighed deeply. "We live in a harsh and often unpleasant world. Leanne may have been shielded from that world for many, many years... but she had to face it one day. Her fragility cannot protect her forever."

"You almost make it sound like I did her a favor by abducting her," Elincia said with more than a little discomfort. Today, Leanne had helped her two times already: Once by distracting the mad soldier Caros, probably saving Elincia's life, and once by trying (and failing) to save her uncle's soul. If anything, Leanne was the one doing favors – favors that Elincia did not deserve at all. "At any rate, I am grateful for your support."

"That's not quite how I meant it," Geoffrey said, his cheeks suddenly red. "Of course I feel for her, but if taking her hostage can help end this useless war, then your actions were justified." His eyes traveled to the blood-stained sword above Elincia's lap. "Even if you had to kill somebody to get her," he added unhappily.

"Oh, that... it's not what you think," Elincia hastened to say. "It is a sad story of its own, though, and I'll tell you about it... but not now." She looked at the door to the antechamber and the raging senator waiting beyond. "We have already made our honored guest wait longer than we should have."

"I'm not sure that kind of sarcasm suits you," Geoffrey remarked, "but I agree. We should invite him in."

"_Invite_ him? Now who's being sarcastic?"

"Forgive me," Geoffrey said. "Perhaps we should both watch our tongues. Shall I bring him in now?"

"Wait... It's unlikely, but have you searched him for weapons?"

"Of course."

"How thoroughly?"

"Uh... I searched through all of his garments? And his pockets?" Geoffrey sounded uncertain. "As thoroughly as any other prisoner."

"Begnion's famed magical research could produce some dangerous devices," Elincia said. "Small ones, easily concealed." She remembered clearly how her earlier carelessness had cost one of her soldiers his life. "Strip him of his clothes," she commanded. "It's the only way to make sure that he has nothing on him."

"Are you sure about this?" Geoffrey asked uneasily. "It's one thing to be concerned about your safety, but isn't this just to humiliate him?"

"I don't see why it can't be both," Elincia snarled. "Valtome's arrogance and conceit are far beyond that of any sane human being. For his own sake, he must be taught some humility, and if lying naked on the floor before me won't achieve that, then nothing will."

"I guess it might work," Geoffrey replied, but Elincia thought he did not sound very convinced. "I'll be right back," he said and left the throne room.

_No more foolish risks_, Elincia thought as she waited. Involuntarily, her hands wandered to the belt pouch that contained Lehran's Medallion, and found that it was still there, safely wrapped in cloth. _I'm still not sure why I took this thing, but I'll hold onto it for the time being._

After about a minute had passed, the throne room door was opened again, and Elincia heard Valtome before she saw him.

"...Senate hears of this, your pathetic country will become a single large cow paddock for the Empire! Hee hee! Oh, you will beg for mercy, but it'll be too late! You shall rue the day you laid your filthy hands on Senator Valtome!"

_Goddess, he's worse than ever._

Behind the closing door, Geoffrey and Valtome came into Elincia's view. The Senator was naked, as she had commanded and was forcefully being dragged along by Geoffrey who had a distasteful look on his face. The skin of Valtome's body was even paler than that of his face, and his head was entirely bald, his hair only a wig. However, if Valtome was feeling any shame or humiliation, he was turning them into anger and outrage, and when he saw Elincia, his eyes widened in a sort of hateful joy.

"Uwee hee hee! There she sits, the nasty little queen! And so proud of herself!" Valtome's entire body was shaking with fury, and the hatred in his eyes defied description. His demeanor made even Geoffrey nervous, who maintained a very firm grip on his arm. "How foolish you are! You know nothing! Nothing of what you and your precious Crimea will suffer at the–"

"Shut up!" Elincia yelled at the top of her lungs. "You still don't understand the position you're in, Valtome! You are–"

"I am the one who will kill you!" the Senator shrieked so loud that Geoffrey almost let go of him. "Uwee hee hee! Once our army has depopulated your country and our torturers have taught you proper respect, I will kill you myself! Oh, it will be the most pleasurable thing I've done in my entire life! And I–"

"I'm not interested in a shouting match," Elincia called out to Geoffrey. "Shut him up." With a grateful expression, Geoffrey nodded and put his gauntleted left hand over Valtome's mouth. The Senator's ravings were reduced to a slightly metallic muffling and soon stopped completely. Elincia let him be like that for a while, simply looking at him with contempt, in the hope that his temper would cool down. Then, after a few minutes, when at least Valtome's body was no longer shaking, she began to speak.

"Senator Valtome, you are a prisoner of Crimea and my personal hostage. You will not be harmed for as long as General Zelgius and his soldiers obey my orders and refrain from any hostile action. On the other hand, if he or any other Begnion soldier so much as hurt a Crimean citizen, I will not hesitate to have you killed."

As Elincia spoke, Valtome became more agitated again, as if her words were refueling his indignant rage – which was probably exactly what was happening. Nevertheless, she continued in her attempt to make him see the reality he was now facing.

"You will probably remain a prisoner for as long as it'll take me to come to an understanding with the Senate, or preferably, Empress Sanaki, about this whole sordid affair. Needless to say, your little would-be genocide against the laguz has also been put on hold." That revelation seemed to infuriate Valtome most of all, but Elincia paid his anger no more heed. "The wheels of diplomacy being as slow as they are, you will probably stay in our custody for a while. It is in your best interest to start behaving at least remotely like a sensible human being, not like an endless fount of righteous indignation. Do you understand that?"

Valtome gave on sign of understanding, futilely struggling against Geoffrey's hold over him. When Elincia had her knight tentatively withdraw his left hand, Valtome immediately launched into another hateful rant, which was squelched by Geoffrey's gauntlets a second later.

"Look, Valtome," Elincia decided to try another approach, "although I doubt that you will believe me, I can sympathize with your position. As opposed to you, I am not incapable of putting myself into the heads of other people. Ever since you were born, you've had servants, or even slaves, to obey your every whim. You own a great amount of land, and you rule over the people living there without ever hearing the slightest bit of protest – because the unfortunate souls living in your territory surely know better than to tempt your ill will. Tens of thousands of Imperial soldiers were only recently placed under your command, and fought and died when and where you told them to. Even so powerful a man as General Zelgius would gladly give his life for you, undeserving though you are. On top of that, you are an Imperial Senator, and when you walk through the streets of Sienne, the people throw themselves into the mud to make way for you, and praise your name as you walk past them like that of a saint." She took a deep breath, made weary by her own narration of Valtome's power.

"Not once in your life have you been in a position of subservience. Never have you taken into consideration anybody else's feelings or welfare. Never has anybody ever dared to talk back to you, except perhaps for your fellow Senators, and half of them are probably as bad as you. You literally do not know what it is like not to get what you want, always and right now. But it may not be too late for you to learn what respect is, so perhaps you should look on your stay here as an opportunity instead of an indignity."

Her words made Elincia recall something she had thought earlier this day. _I abducted Leanne in part to... how did I put it... 'humble Tibarn'. And now I'm trying to put some humility into a Begnion Senator. What's wrong with me? Why am I trying to do this?_

_Perhaps because humble people don't start wars that cost thousands of lives for no good reason?_

Elincia decided that this answer was sufficient and looked at Valtome again. Her speech, long and arduous as it was, seemed to have had an effect on him, much to her surprise, because he had at least stopped shaking again, and his hands were no longer clenched to fists. She nodded at Geoffrey to give him another chance at talking, and Valtome surprised her again when he did not immediately resumed yelling.

"Uwee hee hee." _Can he please stop doing that? _"Uwee hee hee... I see. Oh, yes, I see now." Valtome nodded as if he had solved some spectacularly difficult riddle. "It has become as clear as day to me."

"What are you talking about?" Elincia asked, uncertain whether she preferred the Senator's new, smug tone to his previous, hateful one.

"I understand you now, little Elincia," Valtome said almost gleefully. "Oh, make no mistake: It won't change anything – your city will still be burned to the ground, your people enslaved and your lands sown with salt. Uwee hee hee! I'm so looking forward to witnessing it all before I execute you!"

"I'm sure you will," Elincia said and looked at Geoffrey, whose reservoir of outrage at Valtome had long since depleted: He did not even glare at the Senator anymore for once again threatening his queen with death; he contended himself with merely holding him in an iron grip. There was probably nothing Valtome could say that would make Geoffrey think even less of him. Elincia, however, could still say things that surprised her knight.

"Why don't you come and try?" she asked Valtome. "Executing me, I mean."

"Elincia!" Geoffrey called out in shock, only to be drowned out by the Senator's laughter.

"UWEE HEE HEE! Oh dear! She thinks she can toy with me! How precious!"

"I am serious, Senator," Elincia said and pointed at Amiti that was still lying across the throne's arm rests. "As you can see, there is a sword here. If you can take it from me, maybe you'll be able to fulfill your dream a bit earlier."

"Uwee hee hee! Oh, what a fun game you wish to play! I'd love to play with you, but your lover here is holding my arm."

"Let go of him, Geoffrey," Elincia said, "and do not move."

"Elincia! I cannot abide–"

"Trust me," she said simply, and after a second, Geoffrey let go of his captive with a reluctant grunt. "Come on, Valtome," Elincia challenged him. "Time waits for no one."

"Oh, it would wait for me," Valtome replied and made a step toward the throne. "But _I_ do not want to wait! You think you're toying with me, but once you find your sword stuck in your chest, you'll see..." He quickly reached the throne and climbed the five steps, reaching with his hand for Amiti's grip.

Before he could so much as touch it, Elincia seized the sword with her right hand, rose from the throne, curled her left hand into a fist and smacked Valtome in the face as hard as she could. The Senator, wholly unprepared for this assault, toppled backwards, lost his balance and fell down the stairs, landing painfully on his back.

"I thought so," Elincia said, moving down the stairs herself, casting an amused glance at Geoffrey who let out the deepest sigh Elincia had ever heard. "You are so thoroughly divorced from reality that you truly believed I would give you a real chance to kill me." She shook her head and watched Valtome struggle to his feet. "I think I'm wasting my time with you. I should just have you thrown into the dungeon and be done with it," she said, and almost had to grin when she saw Geoffrey's eager nodding.

"Fine," Valtome said, both his back and his dignity injured. "Fine. I can wait. It makes no difference when you die, as long as I can watch! Uwee hee hee!"

"Is that everything you have to say to me?" Elincia asked wearily.

"Oh no, not at all!" Valtome said, his teeth bared. "I was only just beginning when you invited me to your little game!"

"Yes, you said something about understanding me," she quickly replied. "But I don't even want to hear your lunatic ravings about my character."

"Of course not," Valtome snickered. "You wouldn't like to hear the truth!" His face seemed to be frozen in a permanent grin ever since his fall, which made him look even more deranged than he already was.

"Whatever," Elincia said. Her patience was at an end. "Geoffrey, give him back his clothes and put him into a cell."

"With pleasure, Your Majesty," her knight replied and stepped up to Valtome from behind, seizing his arm again. "Let's go."

"Uwee hee hee! That's just like you, queenie," Valtome laughed as he struggled against Geoffrey's pull, unwilling to let his audience come to an end. "Close your eyes and ears from the truth – that you're just like me!"

"WHAT?" Elincia almost hit Valtome again, so angry did his words make her. "Geoffrey, hold!" He reluctantly obeyed, and Valtome's eyes lit up with joy. "So you want to hear the truth, my little queen? I am surprised."

"I will hear no more from you," Elincia said sharply, "except that you take back what you just said!"

"Elincia, it's not worth it," Geoffrey tried to calm her down. "Just ignore him and–"

"There are some things I cannot ignore," Elincia interrupted him. She was burning with anger on the inside – she had been nice enough to try and reach out to Valtome, after everything he had said and done, and now he was telling her that they were alike? If he had said it in a jeering tone, she would have ignored it – but he had spoken with a conviction that had affected her in profound manner.

And he had no intention of taking any of it back.

"Everything you said about me is also true for you," Valtome said, still smiling that unnerving smile. "You were born a princess, the only child to the king! You grew up in a villa, surrounded by devoted playmates, and eating the finest foods of the land! You had servants to wait upon you, to labor for you, to pamper you!" He paused for a moment to draw some breath, while Elincia stared at him with her hands shaking. What he was saying was true, at least in part... but who was _he_ to tell _her _that!

"You see I am well informed about you," Valtome continued. "Begnion knows everything that goes on in her provinces. Ah, what a nice and carefree life you had, fed by your peasantry and entertained by your retainers! And it only gets better from there, because one day, you became the queen!"

"Silence!" Geoffrey growled. "Elincia wasn't handed the throne – she had to earn it with more hard and painful effort than you'll ever make in your whole life!"

"What effort?" Valtome laughed without even looking at Geoffrey. "She ran crying into Begnion's arms and was given an entire army by the gullible Apostle! Of course she was handed the throne!"

"That's not true!" Geoffrey shouted.

But there was a grain of truth to it, Elincia knew – Begnion's armies had been a great strategic asset, if not a tactical one. Still, this vile man had no right to talk to her like that!

"And so you became the queen," Valtome continued happily, ignoring Geoffrey's objection. "You inherited your parents' lands and castles and treasures, making you the richest woman in Crimea. You were given command of the army, sending thousands to... how did you put it... fight and die where and when you told them to. Consider the recent rebellion that could easily have been prevented by you. You welcomed it as a demonstration of your power! Uwee hee hee... you even sacrificed one of your darling playmates as a pawn, just so you could keep the throne!"

"Shut up!" Elincia exploded. She had tolerated Valtome's ramblings until now, but he had gone to far when he had so much as mentioned Lucia. "Shut up, or I'll–"

"You'll what?" Valtome asked. "Hang me like you had your little friend hanged, because you didn't want to lose your throne and the pleasant life that came with it? Oh, I'm sure she was happy to sacrifice _her_ life for her little princess – a job well done! I'm sure the joy of pleasing her mistress was greater than any pain she suffered! I envy you for having such mindlessly devoted servants–"

"SHUT UP!"

There was a sudden gap in Elincia's perception, perhaps similar to a reader encountering a torn-out page in a book. She did not know what happened during that gap, but when her awareness returned an instant later, her sword Amiti had somehow become lodged in Valtome's midsection. The Senator stared at the long metal blade stuck in his waist and let out a strange, surprised laugh.

"Uwe... heee... heeee?"

"Elincia!" Geoffrey shouted and lunged forward, though there was little he could do. "Why... why did you...?"

"You foolish... little... thing," Valtome rasped. "Do you realize... what you have done?"

Elincia was not sure what he was talking about. But he was no longer slandering Lucia, and that pleased her.

"You have murdered... a Senator! The Empire will wipe out your country! They will draw and quarter every last one of your peasants... the men, the women, the children... all of you... are... dead..."

Valtome was dying; Elincia could see that. She knew this to be a bad thing, because he was a valuable hostage. But on the other hand... the things he had said about Lucia...

"It wasn't true," she whispered. "Not true..."

"Damn it, he's gone," Geoffrey cursed somewhere close by. "Even a healer can't bring him back now."

"Geoffrey!" Elincia seized his shoulders and shook them, to make him stop talk about unimportant things. "Did you hear what he said about Lucia?"

"Yes, but–"

"It wasn't true!"

"I know!" Geoffrey replied curtly, but Elincia was not assuaged.

"She was my friend! Not my mindless slave!"

"I know!" Geoffrey sounded irritable, which prompted Elincia to try again.

"She even told me to let her die! She said that of her own free will!"

"I know," he said for a third time. This time, his voice was full of compassion, and Elincia felt his hand on hers.

"He couldn't just continue saying these things," she whispered.

"No." Geoffrey slowly shook his head. "No, he couldn't."

Happy that he finally understood her, Elincia began to cry.


	17. A Nocturnal Visitor

**Chapter 17: A Nocturnal Visitor**

Elincia awoke in her bed in the middle of the night, her face wet with sweat and her heart racing. She was hardly a stranger to nightmares – they had been a regular, though infrequent companion ever since taking the throne, and after Lucia's death and the events that had followed, they had become the rule rather than the exception for her. She had learned to forget about them very quickly, within minutes of waking up, but this one was still fresh on her mind.

She had been trapped in a large, dark room, together with hundreds of bald, naked men, their faces frozen in mad smiles. Then they had started to laugh, all of them, all at once – a terible 'uwee hee hee' echoing a hundred times over. Then a sword had magically appeared in Elincia's hands, and she had found herself killing the laughing men one after the other, plunging the sword into their bodies and pulling it out again, terrified by the fact that even as they died, the men still kept on laughing. Only when the last one of them had been run through by her blade, Elincia had been allowed to awaken.

_At least I won't need a scryer to tell me the meaning of this dream_, she thought wearily as she let her eyes drift through her room, illuminated by the light of the waning moon. _I shouldn't have killed Valtome. It was wrong._

The vehemence of her own conclusion surprised Elincia – had she not killed Bastian, too? One of her dearest friends? Valtome had been a horrid man, and certainly much more deserving of death than Bastian, who had only tried to help her! She was all but feeling guilty for wasting nightmares on the likes of Valtome, when she should be tortured instead by the sight of the man on whom she had sicced a hired killer!

_I shouldn't torture myself at all_, she thought sourly and rose from her bed, walking over to the window. _It's not like it'll bring anybody back._ Her window opened to the palace guardens, and she always found it pleasant to look at them, especially in the pale moon light. But tonight the gardens failed to soothe Elincia's mind, and the images of the nightmare continued to haunt her.

_It's not even the first time I've killed someone in anger_, Elincia reminded herself. _There was Ludveck, and later Izuka, both of whom were prisoners._ But in both cases, she had been in terrible emotional distress, due to the death Lucia and the horrible transformation of her uncle Renning. Her actions, if not justified, had surely been understandable. She had killed them in retaliation for their cruel actions, but Valtome had merely attacked her with words – spiteful, mad, and malicious, but still only words.

_I did it because he maligned Lucia! _Elincia tried to defend herself, but she knew it to be an empty excuse: Lucia was dead and buried, and nothing anyone said or did could harm her anymore. No, she had lost control, plain and simple, and in her anger done something that had demeaned her.

Frustrated with her poor mental discipline, Elincia opened the window in the vain hope that the cool air of the night might help her get a grip on herself. But then she remembered that her room was in the third floor of the palace, and she feared that her conscience might make her do something irrational, so she slammed the window shut again with an angry grunt and stepped away from it.

_There's no way I'm going back to sleep now. And I don't feel like staying in this room. I'll just wander through the corridors for a spell. Perhaps that'll calm me down._

Letting out a frustrated sigh Elincia put on a pair of slippers and left her room, walked down the hallway past Geoffrey's room (no, she would not pay him another deeply embarrassing visit!) and down several flights of stairs until she reached the ground floor. From there she picked a random direction and just walked slowly through the corridors, looking at the many closed doors and thinking about the people sleeping soundly behind them.

_If any of them knew how easily their queen is reduced to a raging murderer..._

Elincia shuddered. At the moment, Geoffrey was the only one who knew about the circumstances of Valtome's death, and she could be certain that he would never tell a living soul. He had personally disposed of the senator's body, and though an excuse for his death would still have to be fashioned, nobody would ever know the truth unless Elincia wanted them to. And she certainly did not want anybody to know what she had become.

_I wasn't always like that. When Ashnard murdered my parents before my eyes, I don't think I would have killed him even if I had been able to. I... I was just so afraid at that time, the thought did not even cross my mind!_

Yes, that was how she had changed, Elincia concluded. She had not been the least afraid of Ludveck, or Izuka, or Valtome. She had traded fear for anger – not a very good trade, but it was better than remaining fearful forever.

_Then again, perhaps I was always that way and just didn't know it, because I was powerless to do anything. _Elincia shook her head at this futile conjecture. _There's no way to ever know. And what does it matter? I am what I am now. I cannot deny my anger. But I must learn to control it._

While she had been thinking, Elincia's steps had led her to the palace gallery, where portraits of all Crimean monarchs were hanging on display. Even though the room was unlit and none of the portraits recognizable, she avoided the picture of her father out of habit – she always felt terribly inadequate even under the benevolent smile the artist had given him.

"Hold! Who's there?" a nervous voice suddenly shouted at the far end of the room. Elincia flinched when the words pierced the blissful silence, but it was only a member of the palace guard on night watch, and he turned out to be rather embarrassed for accosting his queen.

_A queen who is strolling through the palace in her nightgown in the middle of the night_, Elincia thought with wry amusement as she told the rather young man that he did not have to apologize and that he had only been doing his duty. Clearly uncomfortable in her presence, he mumbled something about patrolling and vanished in the adjacent room.

_He would be much more uncomfortable if he knew about... _

_Ah, stop this, Elincia! You have more important things to think about!_

Shortly after coming to her senses yesterday, Elincia had realized that Valtome's death was guaranteed to have far-reaching consequences, and possibly much worse than merely a guilty conscience on her part: She doubted that the Senate's reaction would truly be so extreme as to wipe out Crimea – not that she would let it come to that – but they were bound to be very displeased indeed. The best thing Elincia could do was to play for time and pretend that Valtome was still alive, in the hope that she could confer with Empress Sanaki directly. Of course General Zelgius would probably come knocking at the palace door tomorrow, trying to negotiate for his master's release, so she would have to come up with a good excuse to stall him with.

_And there's Tibarn to consider, too. I'll gladly give him back Leanne if he agrees to call quits to his war... but will he even listen to me? He is so easily angered... and so violent..._

Her own thoughts made Elincia burst out in laughter: Easily angered? Violent? Was she not on the way of becoming just like him, then?

_At least I haven't started a war yet..._

"Your Highness?" The guardsman came in running from the neighboring room, prompted by her laughter. "Is everything all right?"

_What a question! Very little is right... but that's not how he meant it, of course._

"I'm fine," Elincia told the young soldier. "I just thought of something... amusing." She sighed. "I seem to be developing a rather black humor."

"I... I'm glad to hear that," the guard said, more insecure than ever. "Excuse me for fretting so much." Too weary to tell him again that he did not have to apologize, Elincia simply nodded and the soldier turned around and made his way back into the room where he had come from.

Mere seconds after he had vanished from her sight, Elincia heard him shout.

"Hold! Who are–" His words were cut off violently by the sound of a sword plunging into human flesh and turned into a short, muffled death rattle.

_What's happening in there?_ Elincia's mind was assaulted by fear and horror. _There's someone else in that room!_ Then she heard the sound of metal boots coming toward the connecting door, and all she could do was hide behind a pillar before it was opened and a tall man stepped through, wearing scarlet armor and carrying a blood-dripping sword.

It was General Zelgius.

_This is impossible! That room has only one door! How did he get in there? Why didn't the guard see him?_

Utterly collected, as if impossibly entering buildings and killing their inhabitants was the most normal thing in the world for him, Zelgius let his glance sweep across the gallery. But he was looking for alarmed guards, not a hiding queen, and so he did not check behind every pillar. Instead, he made his way toward the main corridor, the noise of his boots cushioned by the gallery's thick carpet.

_He seems to know exactly where he's going_, Elincia thought, postponing the mystery of how Zelgius had appeared until a more appropriate moment. Then she remembered that he had been an honored guest during her coronation ceremony three years ago, as a show of gratitude for his support in the Mad King's War, and had presumably retained at least the palace's basic layout in his memory.

_He can only be here for one reason – to free Valtome. After all, he doesn't know that he's dead. To sneak in here... a bold move worthy of his reputation._ And indeed, the way that Zelgius had taken led directly to the palace dungeon, which was the first place someone intending to free a prisoner would check. But now that Elincia knew what the general was planning to do, she had to address a more difficult question: How could she stop him from rampaging through her palace unhindered, killing who knew how many more guards in the process? She was unarmed and unarmored, and would probably have stood little chance against a determined and righteous Zelgius even on her best day.

_I have to wake Geoffrey and have him rouse the guard_, Elincia decided, even though that meant leaving the soldiers standing watch in the dungeon at the mercy of Zelgius. _It's the only thing I can do._

The gallery had two entrances, and though taking the back door would make her way to Geoffrey slightly longer, it was better than run the risk of being spotted by Zelgius, who was bound to turn his head more than once on his way to the dungeon. But as soon as she opened the back door, she ran into another soldier, and both of them gasped out loud. Elinicia was the first to gather herself and put her finger to her lips.

"Ssshh! Don't say anything, just listen to me!" She decided that the soldier had probably been on his way to relieve his now dead comrade in the gallery of his duty, and his arrival could not have come at a more opportune time. "Do you know where General Geoffrey's room is?" The man nodded, having recognized his queen, and Elincia gave him her instructions.

"Take the most direct route to Geoffrey and wake him immediately. Try not to make any noise while you go – there's an enemy intruder in the palace. Tell Geoffrey..." She hesitated out of fear that the man would panic if he heard that the famed General Zelgius was on the lose. "Tell him that Valtome's lapdog is here to free him, and that he's probably on his way to the dungeon. He is to take at least a dozen men and follow me there, while the rest of the palace guard searches the building for any other intruders. Did you get all that?"

The man nodded silently. His expression was nervous, but nervousness was reigned in by discipline. "Good, then get moving," Elincia told him and turned around, leaving the gallery through its main exit. She had ensured that Geoffrey would be notified, so she was now free to follow Zelgius. It was a massively risky undertaking, with no hope of achieving anything other than confirm his location, but Elincia was not about to let him roam freely in her palace, killing he men as he went.

_What utter nonsense_, she chided herself even as she made her way toward the dungeon. _I won't be able to stop him even if he attacks someone. _But she felt that it was her duty to at least witness Zelgius' acts, and she would not be deterred by fear for her own safety.

_I can still run if he notices me_, she told herself. _Let him try to catch me with that armor of his!_

Within minutes, Elincia reached the spiral staircase that led down to the dungeon, and cast careful glances in all directions of the corridor. Zelgius was likely to already be on his way down, or else she would have encountered him somewhere. It was possible that she had overtaken him by taking a different turn somewhere, but he did not seem like a man who would lose his way during a dangerous rescue mission. Grateful for the fact that she was wearing slippers which allowed her to move without making a sound, Elincia began to descend the stairs, moving more cautiously now than before, since Zelgius was bound to be close by and on his guard.

She reached the bottom of the staircase just in time to see Zelgius quickly and quietly cut down the two soldiers standing night watch near the dungeon's entrance. Only one of them even saw their attacker, but he had no time to draw his weapon before Valtome's would-be rescuer nearly decapitated him with a precise swing of his sword. Elincia cursed Zelgius, powerless to do anything even though she was cowering only a dozen feet or so behind him on the lowest step of the staircase. She could try to sneak up on him from behind and wrestle him for his sword, but that would have amounted to suicide.

_I can take comfort in the fact that he won't be able to escape once Geoffrey and his men arrive. He's trapped down here, with not way out other than this staircase._

The dungeon was badly lit, with only two torches burning near the entrance, and Zelgius took one of them to light the way during his search. "Senator!" he called out into the darkness of the dungeon's main room, hoping for an answer before he had to check all cells individually. "Senator Valtome! Can you hear me?"

"Who goesss there?"

Even General Zelgius flinched when he saw the tall, black shadow step toward him out of the darkness, and Elincia did the same. Then she recognized the voice, and recalled who was living down here, and smiled with grim anticipation.

"Bertram?" Zelgius asked, his second of fright already passed, his sword firmly in his hands, ready to defend himself against Elincia's black knight. But Bertram showed no inclination of attacking, at least not yet, even though he carried his runeblade in his hand. Instead, he made a single step toward Zelgius and spoke again.

"Thisss isss my domain... you are not welcome here!"

"My apologies," the general said smugly. "I'll be gone as soon as I have freed the Senator."

"He isss not here."

"No offense to your integrity, Sir Bertram, but I'd rather make sure of that myself."

"I will ssslaughter you and present your head to my queen!"

Without giving Zelgius the chance to reply, Bertram raised his sword and attacked. Zelgius, not one to be sluggish, blocked his strike, and the two armored fighters clashed in the near-darkness of the dungeon. Bertram kept hissing and yelling as he fought, while Zelgius stayed perfectly silent, parrying each of his opponent's blows without a chink in his defense. Elincia watched the strange shadow duel from her hiding place behind a pillar, praying for Geoffrey to arrive and put an end to this. She wished to intervene herself, but she was no fool: She was unarmed, and in the half-darkness, she was bound to be impaled on one of the two fighters before they even realized she was there. All she could do was wait and watch.

Bertram was still on the offensive, wielding his sword like a blacksmith's hammer, and the sound of his blade clashing with Zelgius' echoed throughout the dark vault. Elincia had seen him duel Sir Ike three years ago, in the shadow of Fort Pinell, and he had been a terror to behold. Now and here, he seemed even more savage and bloodthirsty.

_Back then, I prayed that he would lose. Now I want him to win. How times change..._

The fight had been going on for less than a minute, but Elincia had no doubt that a lesser man than Zelgius would have perished in the first few seconds of the duel, so brutal and vicious were Bertram's attack. But Begnion's finest general was not so easily defeated, and even though conditions were less than favorable for him, he did not lose his cool. He moved his sword with great precision and great speed, impeding Bertram's blade wherever it struck at him. He seemed to be utterly unimpressed by the savage assault that he found himself under, and not once did any of his movements or sounds betray the slightest hints of fear. Had he not been her enemy, Elincia would have been impressed by his display.

_But he _is _my enemy, and I can't afford to lose Bertram! So please hurry, Geoffrey!_

"I enjoy nothing more than swordplay," Zelgius suddenly spoke after deflecting a particularly brutal blow, turning his parry into a counter that hit Bertram's armor, almost topling the wearer. "And there are few enemies of your strength in this world, Bertram, which is why I allowed this fight to continue for as long as it did. But I did not come here for my personal pleasure, so I must end it soon."

Bertram was not the man to reply to such taunts, if taunts they were, and he continued his assaults. But Zelgius now followed up on each of them with a precise, yet powerful counterattack, and the feral knight found himself on the defensive. He growled and snarled as he was driven backward, deeper into the darkness, and hit his back against a pillar, almost losing his head to a sweeping horizontal strike. He managed to duck away at the last second, but had to wave with his sword arm to maintain his balance. Zelgius immediately capitalized on his momentary disadvantage: He struck out at Bertram's sword with all his strength, and with a furious howl, his opponent dropped his weapon, unable to keep his grip on it. Elincia let out a fearful gasp that would surely have given her away, had the sound of the runeblade sliding across the dungeon floor not been louder.

"Though you wear the flesh of a man, you are nothing but a mindless beast," Zelgius said, pointing his sword at the disarmed Bertram who snarled like a cornered fox. "And men do not lose to beasts." He raised his sword arm to strike down his beaten foe. "What they do is slay them."

Desperate to stop Zelgius, and beset with an unnatural fear to see Bertram die before her eyes, Elincia knew that she had to do something, and do it now. A sudden idea came to her, and with no time to consider its merits, she decided to act: Bending over and raising her right leg, she took off one of her slippers and threw it at Zelgius, and managed to hit him in the back of his head.

The slipper was very light, and could not possibly have hurt or even injured the general. But it was enough to get his attention, and his sword arm froze as he turned his head over his shoulders.

"What in the name of–"

Before he could say any more, Bertram had lunged forward with a scream, and Zelgius turned his head back to him just in time to encounter a gauntleted fist slamming into his face. There was a nasty crushing sound like that of a breaking nose, and the Begnion general toppled over like a cut-down tree, hitting the dungeon floor hard.

_Phew... that was such a stupid thing to do... but it actually worked!_

But Elincia had no time to be relieved: With a triumphant howl, and completely ignoring the person whose well-aimed throw had saved his life, Bertram leapt to the floor, seized Zelgius' neck with both hands and dragged him to his feet again. For a moment, he stared at the man who had bested him from hateful eyes, then he slammed his head against the pillar which had obstructed him earlier.

"Stop it!" Elincia screamed in shock and stepped out of the shadow of the pillar that had been hiding her. "Don't kill him!"

"Your Highnesss!" Bertram stopped in mid-movement, about to slam Zelgius' head against the pillar for a second time, and let go of the general who promptly collapsed into a heap. He dropped to one knee and lowered his head before Elincia, displaying a perverse nonchalance as if he had not just been trying to brutally murder an unarmed man. "Your orders?"

_This is what Bertram is_, Elincia reminded herself. _A brutal, vicious killing machine. And with Leann's failure, he will never be anything else ever again._

"I commend you for your quick reaction," Elincia praised Bertram and shot a glance at the unconscious Zelgius who was bleeding from his head.. "Though I hope you didn't break his skull."

"He still breathesss," Bertram replied.

"Not for your lack of trying."

"I did not know he should be spared."

"Well, now you know." Elincia waved her hand at Bertram's face, irritated that he was still kneeling. "Come on, rise," she said, and he obeyed instantly. Paying him no more heed, she walked past him and knelt down next to General Zelgius, inspecting his condition. Bertram had spoken the truth: He was still breathing.

"I'll see what I can do for him," she said to herself. "If only I had a staff..." Zelgius nose had indeed been broken, a quick inspection showed her, and was bleeding heavily from a head wound. Though if Bertram had had his way with him, he would surely be looking much, much worse by now...

Suspiciously, Elincia turned her head and looked up at Bertram standing behind her. He was staring at her with an intense, yet somehow contemplative look. No, it was not she he was looking at, she realized – it was Zelgius.

"You will not kill him," she said empathetically, suddenly fearful that her control over her monstrous slave might break, and that he would tear to pieces the man who had bested him in single combat. Did he actually have something as pride? "I won't tell anyone that you lost to him," she suggested, only half-joking.

"I do not care about that," Bertram replied coldly. "But... there is sssomething about thisss man..."

"Yes, he's bleeding and possibly dying because you couldn't restrain your bloodlust!"

"No," Bertram said matter-of-factly. "Not that..." He closed is eyes as if in reminiscence. "I know him."

"What?" Elincia asked absent-mindedly, busy trying to stem the blood flow from Zelgius' head wound with the hem of her nightgown. "Well, sure you do. He's famous all over Tellius."

"I have crossed blades with thisss man before," Bertram said with complete certainty. "Hisss fighting style... it is so very familiar!"

"When did that happen?" Elincia asked, her interest suddenly captured. "While you were with... with Daein?" She turned her attention to Bertram, since Zelgius' wound, though it was bleeding a lot, turned out to be a mere laceration. "Or... before?" She did not like being reminded that Bertram had been a different, a kind man before becoming a monster, but trying to deny it was just as pointless. Then again, there was no way that her uncle Renning would have fought against General Zelgius, since Crimea and Begnion had not been at war during their lifetime. Or had they perhaps encountered each other during a tournament?

"It isss strange... because I have never seen this man before," Bertram said. "It makes no sense... but I know him! I know hisss sword arm!"

"I'm sure you do," Elincia said, trying not to agitate Bertram further. "Why don't you just think about it for a while?"

"Yesss," he nodded. "I will think..."

"Your Highness!" Geoffrey's voice suddenly echoed from the dungeon's entrance. "Your Highness, are you all right?"

"I am fine, Geoffrey," Elincia called out to him and waved, though he could probably not see her in the near-darkness. "I'm over here! Don't worry, there's no danger anymore."

Geoffrey came walking briskly toward her, his sword in one hand and a torch in the other, followed by a dozen members of the palace guard carrying the same equipment. Their arrival finally brougt some light into the dungeon, and they only now spotted the two dead guards lying near the entrance.

"What happened here?" Geoffrey asked after reaching Elincia. "Is he dead?" He nodded in the direction of General Zelgius. "More importantly, how did he get in here without anyone noticing?"

"He is alive and reasonably well," Elincia replied, "provided his brain was not damaged," she added with an angry glare at Bertram. But the feral knight was entirely absorbed in thought, probably pondering why Zelgius' fighting style had seemed so familiar to him. Happy that he was not hissing and screaming and trying to kill people, Elincia decided to let him be like that for a while and returned her attention to Geoffrey. "Have one of your men fetch me a healing staff so I can at least stop the bleeding."

"You heard her majesty," Geoffrey told one of the guardsmen, who swiftly left the dungeon. "Now please tell me what happened. From the beginning."

Elincia nodded and told Geoffrey how Zelgius had suddenly appeared in a room with only one entrance, and about what had happened down here in the dungeon. When she came upon the part where she had distracted the general just long enough for Bertram to knock him out, Geoffrey could not hold back a laugh, nor could the guards. "A... a shoe?" he asked. "You attacked the mighty General Zelgius with a shoe?" He shook his head. "I may never again be able to worry about you, Your Highness, because no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to do something more foolhardy than this."

"I had already seen him kill several of my people tonight," Elincia replied in earnest, "unable to save any of them. And even though he's not much of a human being," she added, peering at Bertram, "he was in a position where I _could_ save him." She glared at the unconscious Zelgius. "Damn that man and his blind loyalty!"

"Did he learn what... what happened to Valtome?" Geoffrey asked with some hesitation that Elincia could not fail to notice. "Not yet," she replied. "And it will be to our advantage to leave him in the dark about it. If he knew that his master was dead and that he was our only hostage, he might try to kill himself just to rob us of a possible bargaining chip."

"Surely he wouldn't be that devoted," Geoffrey said.

"We'll not take that chance," Elincia replied. "We'll tell him that Valtome's continued health depends on his good behavior. That should stop him from trying to escape, too." She remembered the general's sudden appearance in the gallery's side room. "He probably used some magical apparatus made by Begnion researchers to enter the palace grounds," Elincia decided. She was interrupted when the guard returned with a healing staff, and she quickly and expertly took care of Zelgius' shallow wound. "Thank you," she said and handed the staff back.

"What shall we do with him?" Geoffrey asked.

"Strip him off his armor and search him thoroughly, then put him in one of the cells," Elincia replied. "Do it right here." Two of the guards immediately got to work peeling Zelgius' unconscious body out of his plate armor, while Elincia addressed the others.

"The rest of you can leave now, since I trust there'll be no more trouble." _Or rather, I hope. But it amounts to the same thing._ "Please take the two bodies with you," she pointed at the guards Zelgius had slain, "and prepare them for burial. Do the same with the man who was killed in the gallery."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The guards left and did as they had been told, and with them went all of the torches but Geoffrey's, turning the dungeon into a dread realm of twilight. In the half-darkness, Elincia watched the guards carry the bodies of their comrades with them, reflecting for a moment on the injustice that she had actually healed the person who had killed them. And yet... with Valtome's death (due to her lack of emotional control!), she now needed Zelgius as a hostage. In fact, she should count herself quite lucky that he had so willingly walked into her dungeon. _And it only cost the lives of three soldiers. What a favorable exchange. _she thought bitterly.

"General Geoffrey!" One of the men searching Zelgius stepped toward Elincia, a bag the size of a fist in his hands. "He was carrying this." He handed it over to Geoffrey, who opened it immediately, inspecting its contents with suspicious eyes. "It contains yellow powder," he said in Elincia's direction. "It looks very... ordinary." He put his nose to it and sniffed. "No smell"

"We'd better not play around with what might be a magical powder," Elincia said. "We'll find out what it is once we interrogate Zelgius." She looked at the soldiers who by now had stripped the general entirely of his clothes. "Anything else?"

"No, that was the only thing he carried."

"Good." Elincia nodded approvingly. "Get some clothes for him so he doesn't catch death down here and lock him up. I want four dedicated guards posted at his cell at all times. They are not to talk to him or answer any of his questions, nor mention anything about Senator Valtome's whereabouts."

"Yes, Your Highness," the two guards said and went on to fulfill her orders.

"Well, that should be it for tonight," Elincia said. "Geoffrey, I entrust the safekeeping of that powder to you." He nodded in confirmation. "Now let's go back upstairs." She turned to Bertram who was still lost in thought. "I assume you will be staying here?" But no answer came. "Well, suit yourself," she said. "The place is mostly empty anyway."

"You mean he's... _living_ down here?" Geoffrey asked incredulously.

"You hadn't noticed?"

"To be honest, the less I see of him, the better."

"I understand your distaste," Elincia said. "But he's Crimea's own black knight, and he–"

"Yesss!" Bertram suddenly burst out. "Him! He isss him!"

"Wh-what are you saying?" Elincia asked, confused by Bertram's sudden agitation. "Who is who?"

"Him!" He pointed at the unconscious General Zelgius who was just being placed on a pallet by the two guards. "I remember him now!"

"I'm all ears," Elincia said, her curiousity re-kindled. "Where from?"

"I fought him in Daein," Bertram replied. "In Ashnard's arena."

"What?" His words came as a shock to Elincia. "I thought you had no memories about that time!" _No, wait... that's what uncle Renning said when he was himself for a short while. But Bertram's memories may be a different matter..._

"I remember it," the feral knight said in a tone that brooked no objection. "Perfectly! He defeated me, but... Ashnard stopped him from killing me." Bertram closed his eyes, as if he wished to recall the scene more precisely. "He sssaid he wanted usss both."

"Zelgius was in Daein at the same time as you?" Elincia made no secret of her skepticism. "But that makes no sense! Begnion and Daein already had strained relations even before the war, and–"

"He wasss the one I fought," Bertram cut her off. "There isss no doubt at all!"

"Then why are there no reports about General Zelgius showing up in Daein three years ago?" Elincia demanded.

"Because he was there under another name!" Bertram seemed almost annoyed at how slow Elincia was. "He never revealed himself as Zelgiusss!"

"That's would explain why he didn't know," Geoffrey interjected. "What was his assumed name, then?"

"He called himssself... the Black Knight."

"WHAT?" both Elincia and Geoffrey asked at the same time. "Are you certain?" the queen added.

"There isss no doubt. I never forget an opponent."

"But that's impossible!" Elincia insisted. "The Black Knight was fighting for Daein during the recent war of liberation, against Begnion! Zelgius would have been fighting his own men!"

"I do not know about that. But I _know_ that it isss him!"

"Well," Elincia said, at a loss for something more intelligent to say. "Well," she repeated stupidly. "If you're really sure... that's certainly a surprise." She looked at Geoffrey, who was at a loss for words as well. "We will have to... think about the implications of this revelation." She rubbed her eyes, suddenly overcome by fatigue. "Tomorrow," she added, and Geoffrey did not protest. "Thank you, Bertram."

"I am your ssslave."

"That you are," she sighed. "Come on, Geoffrey, let's leave. I need to sleep." Her knight nodded and followed her up the spiral staircase, either too surprise or too tired himself to talk about Bertram's revelation.

_Tomorrow_, Elincia thought and yawned. _It will all make sense tomorrow._

_And on the plus side, I'll probably be too confused to have any more nightmares._


	18. A Fateful Skirmish

**Chapter 18: A Fateful Skirmish**

"Ike, wake up," a familiar voice called out to him from beyond the walls of sleep.

"Huh?" Ike wearily opened his eyes and noted that it was no longer dark – the weak rays of first sunlight shone through the entrance of his tent. He still felt as if he had not slept enough, though. "Are we under attack?" he asked.

"Nothing so dramatic," Soren – for it was his voice – said, standing in the opened flap of Ike's tent. "Tibarn wants to see you." He hesitated for a split second. "Right now."

"You mean he is already up?" Ike asked and jumped to his feet, shaking off his residual sleepiness. "No," Soren replied curtly," he is _still _up."

"I see," Ike said. "And still angry, I suppose." He closed his eyes and recalled the events of the previous day. "Not that I can blame him." He nodded at Soren. "All right, I'm awake." He picked up his sword from the floor and sheathed it, wary to ever go anywhere without it. "Let's go."

"He only asked for _you_," Soren said, ever the unsociable one, but Ike would have none of it. "If your presence isn't wanted, then he can just say that," he told him.

"You know I don't enjoy the presence of sub... of laguz unless absolutely necessary," Soren argued.

"And I don't enjoy being in the presence of Tibarn when he's mad," Ike said, still vividly remembering the Hawk King's seething anger on the day before. "Come on," he said and pushed Soren out of his tent. "He said 'right now', didn't he?"

"In fact, he yelled it," Soren said, resigned to his fate, and fell in line next to Ike.

"I hope he wasn't just yelling all night?" Ike said as the two of them crossed through the largely silent encampment of the laguz army. With no specific orders from Tibarn, and no expected battle today, the soldiers were sleeping in. "Anything from Elincia?"

"Not to my knowledge, though I suppose a messenger could have been sent directly to Tibarn," Soren said. "Though any such messenger would risk loss of limb or life, given Tibarn's current disposition."

"I still don't get it." Ike said as Tibarn's large red tent came into sight. "I can understand that she didn't like having two foreign armies fighting on her land, but to resort to such extreme measures as kidnapping? It's not like her at all."

"Extreme measures?" Soren asked in a doubtful tone. "She could have attacked both our and Begnion's unprotected flanks and caused massive damage before retreating again. I'd say she was acting with great restraint."

"If you like her so much, why don't you go work for her instead," Ike growled morosely. Soren instantly froze in mid-step, his head turning to the side as if his commander had slapped him.

"Don't say things like that," he whispered, his voice suddenly shaking. "My place is at your side, and nowhere else."

"S-sorry," Ike said in a rare moment of unease. "I guess I wasn't really awake after all." _Beneath the hard shell, he's still as easily scared as that feral child back in Gallia_, he thought with a profound sense of regret. _I wonder if he'll ever truly change..._

"I really didn't mean it, Soren," Ike said earnestly. "I just thought it was strange for you to be so.. understanding of what Elincia did." He tried to put a hand on Soren's shoulder, but the young mage made a sudden step backs, evading him. "I only tried to see things from the perspective of the enemy!" he said, his tone hurt as well as defensive.

"Now you're the one talking nonsense," Ike pointed out. "Elincia may have done a very stupid thing, but she's not our enemy."

"Not _yet_," Soren retorted angrily. "Why do you think Tibarn wants to see you? For tea and crumpets?"

"I... I don't know," Ike said honestly, taken aback by the implication of Soren's words. "You mean he would–"

"Just find out for yourself," Soren said sullenly and turned around. "I wasn't supposed to come with you anyway!" With that he stomped off and walked – no, almost ran – back the way they had come. Ike considered stopping him, but he knew had already hurt him enough with his inconsiderate remark and would probably only make things worse.

_To be fair, it was a stupid thing to say_, Ike admitted to himself, doubly so since he did not usually say stupid things. _I suppose Elincia's betrayal affected me, too. Even so, Soren could afford to be a bit more emotionally sturdy._

But Ike knew that if such a change would ever come to Soren's personality, it would not come soon, and certainly not today. Besides, Tibarn was waiting for him, and not only was he in a bad mood, he was also the one paying the bills for his mercenary company.

_I'll talk to Soren later_, Ike decided and crossed the last remaining distance to Tibarn's tent. _He's bound to calm down a bit in the meantime._ Then he put the matter out of his mind, concentrated on the imminent meeting with the Hawk King, and approached his tent. It was guarded by two large, untransformed hawk laguz, each of them only slightly smaller than their king, and they saluted their beorc ally with respect before stepping aside so he could enter.

"You're finally here," Tibarn's harsh voice greeted Ike before he saw him. The ruler of Phoenicis was standing in front of a table covered by a large map, his arms crossed over his chest. He was surrounded by his closest lieutenants, Ulki and Janaff, as well as the heron prince Reyson and a few other hawk laguz whom Ike could not name. All of them, even the usually peaceable Reyson, shared the same look of grim determination and cold fury. In a corner of the tent, at a conspicuous distance to their avian brothers, stood Ranulf and Skrimir, both wearing discontented frowns. Ike almost nodded in Ranulf's direction, but he found it wiser to greet Tibarn first.

"Hello," he said in a friendly, but assertive tone that usually worked well with angry people. "You wanted to see me."

"I have a mission for you," the Hawk King said curtly. Judging by his face and the controlled tone of his voice, his wrath had cooled at least a bit during the night, Ike noted with some relief. According to laguz soldiers close to Tibarn during yesterday's abortive battle, Ulki and Janaff had been forced to physically restrain their king to prevent him from taking to the sky and ripping Elincia to bloody shreds, while Reyson had pleaded with him not to do anything that would put his sister at risk. Ike peered inconspicuously at Tibarn's lieutenants and decided that the fresh scars on Ulki's face and the bloody tear in Janaff's right wing lent credence to the story.

Being a stranger to emotional outburst, Ike found it hard to understand the reasons for Tibarn's fury. Not even Kilvas' betrayal and the ravens' devastating sneak attack on his homeland had angered him so, and that attack had cost thousands of hawks their lives. And while Elincia's abduction of Leanne had been a severe betrayal of trust, it really could not compare too mass slaughter.

_He'll have to work through his issues on his own_, Ike decided. "What kind of mission?" he asked.

"I'll tell you in a moment. But first, take a look at this map." Tibarn stepped aside so Ike could see the map, and he stepped forward to study it. It was a map of Melior, capital of Crimea, with the Royal Palace at its center. Numerous lines and circles and numbers had been drawn on it, and it took Ike only a second before he realized what he was looking at.

"You're planning to attack Melior?" He turned back to Tibarn and stared at him. "That's insane!"

"That's what I said!" came Ranulf's voice out of the corner of the tent. "And even Skrimir told him it was madness! _Skrimir_ advised against a battle! If that doesn't give you pause, then nothing will."

"The hawk tribe is ready to do what is necessary to defend those whom we have sworn to protect," Tibarn said, summarily ignoring his detractor. "I have been told that the soldiers of Gallia cannot participate in an attack on Crimea without permission from King Caneighis, but we are willing to do it on our own."

"Is that your final decision?" Ike asked.

"The decision is not ours," Tibarn told him. "Whether we attack or not is up to the traitor queen. Which is where you come in, Ike. I want you to go to Melior and talk to her."

"Me?" Ike asked, taken aback by this unexpected request. He had assumed that Tibarn had had a combat mission in mind for him, but not something like this. "I'm a fighter, not a diplomat," he said, phrasing his answer in such a manner that he was not refusing Tibarn's order outright. "I mean, Elincia and I are friends, but I doubt that'll make her–"

"I hope by that you mean 'used to be' friends," Tibarn snarled. Ike merely looked back at him, unwilling to recant his statement, at least not without having spoken to Elincia first.

_Actually, this assignment would give me the opportunity to do just that. And I really want to see her and ask her what the hell she was thinking._

"Whatever," Tibarn finally said, glaring at Ike with a deep scowl before he continued. "You won't need much in terms of diplomatic skills for your mission. You will present Elincia with her options, and she will make a decision. That is all."

"So why send me of all people?" Ike inquired, still not entirely sure of Tibarn's motives.

"Because I would be hard-pressed not to rip her apart!" came the Hawk King's furious reply. Two of his lieutenants exchanged amused glances, as though they liked the idea of Elincia being ripped apart. Ike disapproved, but thought it futile to comment. "Why not someone other than you or me, then?" he asked instead.

"Because it must be someone strong enough to protect Reyson, of course!"

"Reyson is coming, too?" Ike asked and peered at the still grim-looking heron prince. "I didn't know."

"I thought it should be obvious," Tibarn said. "Poor Leanne is bound to be horribly distressed even if that... person hasn't mistreated her. The presence of her brother should at least be of some comfort to her."

_There's no way Elincia has mistreated Leanne_, Ike thought, but kept his mouth shut. Defending the Queen of Crimea in front of the Hawk King would be an exercise in futility. "So I'm supposed to protect Reyson, and hopefully Leanne, too," he said and nodded. Now that was a task more in line with his qualifications. "I can do that. Though perhaps he should be the one to talk to Elincia?"

"No." Reyson stepped forward and shook his head resolutely, his golden hair flying. "I won't talk to the Queen of Crimea. Not after what she has done." He closed his eyes, and a scowl disfigured his forehead. "I forgave King Kilvas for literally _selling_ me three years ago... and look what he's done to Phoenicis! Look how my forgiveness was rewarded!" Again he shook his head. "I will not repeat that mistake."

_Talking to her doesn't mean forgiving her_, Ike thought, but once again knew better than to say it out loud. If none of the laguz were cool-headed enough to negotiate with Elincia, then it would truly be better if he did the talking.

_I'm being pretty haughty_, he realized. _Who knows how I would be feeling if Mist had been abducted instead. Would I still be defending Elincia?_

_Hm, an interesting question..._

"So will you do it?" Tibarn's impatient voice roused Ike from his contemplation, and he immediately nodded. "Yes," he said, "I'll do it." He hesitated only for an instant. "Though I'm surprised that you would consider such extreme measures as making war on Crimea."

"Extreme perhaps, but neither unprovoked nor unavoidable," Tibarn disagreed. "Remember that we even gave the Begnion Senate a chance to avoid war, and they didn't take it. Elincia will get the same chance, undeserving though she is. Let's see if she's smarter than those Senators."

"I certainly hope so," Ike muttered to himself. "And what do you plan to do if I we return with Leanne? Continue the war against the Empire?"

"Bah," Tibarn spat. "There's no point to it. We can no longer trust Crimea not to stab us in the back while we're fighting Begnion. If she wants to curry favor with the Empire so badly, then let her. I'm finished with either of them." Ike very much doubted that Elincia would stab them in the back, but he had had his fill of fighting the Empire and would not try to dissuade Tibarn. "When do you want us to leave?" he asked. "Right now?"

"Yes. Walking to Melior would take too long, so you had best get a horse."

"I agree... if riding is all right with you, Reyson?"

"I'll manage not to fall off," the heron prince replied. "I'll be waiting here."

"Good," Ike said. "King Tibarn," he nodded toward his employer, and left the tent. Unsure where his company's horses were being kept in this hastily-erected camp, he hesitated and looked around for one of his mercenaries who might be able to tell him. But it seemed that none of them were up at this early hour, at least not within eyeshot, and so Ike decided he would just have to search the camp for a horse when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Hey, Ike! Wait up!"

Ike turned around and saw that Ranulf and Skrimir had left Tibarn's tent behind him. The heir to the throne of Gallia was still looking as grumpy as before, while Ranulf's expression was at least slightly more cheerful than earlier. _Must be the joy of seeing me_, Ike thought wryly and greeted the two beast laguz. "It seems like you two had a fun time," he said.

"Tell me about it," Ranulf groaned. "I spent the whole night trying to calm down an angry Tibarn, which is about as much fun as... as..." He sighed wearily. "See? My mind is completely blank."

"Shouldn't make much of a difference," Ike joked. As opposed to Soren, he knew that Ranulf would not take it the wrong way.

"Wait, I'm supposed to make fun of your intelligence... ah, never mind." Ranulf's expression turned serious again. "I really don't want to see the hawks attack Melior and turn the only laguz-friendly beorc nation of Tellius against us. So you better work your charms on Elincia and get Leanne back."

"My... charms?" Ike raised both eyebrows. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't," Ranulf said with a wave of his hand. "Do your best anyway."

"I always do that," Ike said and turned to Skrimir. "So it was you who told Tibarn he couldn't use Gallia's troops to attack Crimea? He can't have been to happy about that."

"Oh, he wasn't," Ranulf said eagerly. "You should have heard him yell at Skrimir... in fact, I'm surprised nobody woke up. But Skrimir didn't budge an inch and told him he had no authority to make war on Crimea. It was... inspiring."

"My uncle has often told me how important good relations to Crimea are for our nation," Skrimir said, his deep voice unusually collected. "The actions of Queen Elincia anger me, too. But I also think attacking Melior would be... imprudent."

"Did I hear that right?" Ranulf asked and wiggled his ears. "You know the word 'imprudent'? Skrimir, I'm so proud of you."

"This is not the time for jokes," Skrimir said. "I have learned many things during this campaign. One of them is that you cannot win every war, no matter how strong you are. And we already lost the war against Begnion." He slowly shook his red-maned head. "One is enough, I think."

"Your uncle will be happy to hear that," Ranulf said, completely serious this time. "It seems this war wasn't a total washout after all." He yawned suddenly, exposing rows of sharp teeth. "I'm dead tired. I'm going to curl up somewhere and sleep. If worst comes to worse, wake me." He yawned again, frowned and added: "No, on second thought, don't wake me." With that, Ranulf slipped away through the gap between two tents and was gone.

"That cat..." Ike shook his head. "I can never tell if he's serious or not. So what will you do, Skrimir? Go to sleep as well?"

"No." The prince of Gallia shook his head. "I'll stay awake in case your effort fails." Ike must have frowned, for Skrimir roared a good-natured laugh. "Don't take this the wrong way. If you're half as good a diplomat as a fighter, you'll succeed. But if you don't and Tibarn goes to war, I must be there to hold back my soldiers. I'm sure many of them would rather follow the hawks than stay in camp and do nothing. I must ensure their discipline, or my uncle would be displeased."

"You definitely have changed," Ike said – a couple of weeks ago, Skrimir would have been the first to join Tibarn in an attack against any enemy, former ally or not. "But you're probably tired of hearing that already."

"I don't get praised so often that I would already be sick of it," Skrimir said with a feral grin. "Now go and do what you can. Tibarn is impatient."

"Right on," Ike said, and with a casual wave of his hand, left Skrimir and continued his search for a horse. Now that he knew about Tibarn's plans, he was actually rather glad to be in a position where he could make a difference. The idea of a thousand angry hawks descending upon Melior did not sit well with him at all, and he was suddenly very happy that their contract only obliged the Greil Mercenaries to fight against the Begnion Empire.

_But if Tibarn asked me to amend the contract, what would I do? Would I help him attack Crimea... and Elincia? Does a mercenary's loyalty have its limits?_

"Nonsense," Ike mumbled. There was no way he would turn his blade against Elincia. And besides, half of his men would probably mutineer rather than attack the country that was still their home.

"What nonsense?" a female voice asked somewhere close by, and Ike realized that he had been staring at the ground while walking. He looked up and saw his deputy commander Titania, wearing a leather tunic and trousers, her long hair unbraided. It was quite unusual to see her so unkempt, but Ike had already made enough stupid quips today to add another to the list, and besides, he was in a hurry.

"Titania! It's good to see you up already."

"Good morning, Ike," Titania replied, her voice still somewhat sleepy. "I'm surprised to see _you_ up at this hour."

"I have work to do," Ike said. "Can you tell me where the horses are?"

"The horses?" Titania yawned, but unlike Ranulf, covered her mouth with her hand. "Over there, behind Oscar's tent," she said and pointed at one of the slightly ragged tents that belonged to the Greil Mercenaries. "Why do you ask?"

"I need to borrow one," Ike replied.

"But you don't like riding!" Titania protested. "You're not even good at it."

"Tibarn's orders," Ike said and shrugged.

"Oh, in that case, go ahead." Titania made a face. "We wouldn't want to make him angry. I mean, more angry. If that's even possible."

"He has calmed down a bit," Ike told her and began to walk into the direction Titania had indicated. "But I really have to hurry. You're in command until I'm back. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Hey! Do I at least get to know where you're going?" Titania called after her commander.

"To fetch Leanne," Ike replied over his shoulder and made his way toward the horses. With a bemused grin, he noted that his answer made Titanie rub her eyes, perhaps wondering if she was still asleep and dreaming.

* * *

Ike's and Reyson's journey to Melior was uneventful and spent mostly in silence. Reyson was still sullen and angry, and that was unlikely to change unless Leanne would be released, while Ike was busy keeping the horse on the road. Titania had spoken the truth: He was not very good at riding. More importantly, most horses somehow disliked Ike. He had no idea why, but they often bit at him and always tried to throw him off. The brown mare they were currently riding on was no different, and not even Reyson's presence helped to appease it, since he was currently angry and unbalanced in a very un-heronlike manner, and Ike was forced to hold fast to the reigns during the whole journey.

Although he was not usually one to worry overmuch about the myriad ways things could go wrong, Ike found himself wondering how events would play out, and whether he would be able to avoid all-out war between Crimea and Phoenicis. The very concept seemed absurd, seeing as the two nations had fought side by side during the Mad King's War. But then again, shifting alliances were a perfectly normal thing in politics, or so Soren had often cautioned him.

_It all comes down to what Elincia does_, he decided. _I wonder if she's all right. Last time we met, she seemed somehow distraught. Mist suspected that she had lost a friend. But could that be the only explanation for her strange behavior?_

_I'll get to ask her myself soon enough. Until then, patience._

The two riders were only a mile from the outskirts of Melior when they were intercepted by two mounted knights. Ike introduced himself and Reyson as negotiators and requested to be brought before the queen, but the knights told him to wait on this spot until they brought a response. Dissatisfied with that, but unable to convince them to take them to Elincia, Ike ultimately agreed and dismounted, happy to at least stand on his own two feet again while waiting for word from the queen.

"There's one thing Tibarn forgot to mention," Reyson suddenly said. He had also dismounted and was now standing next to Ike. "Leanne had the Fire Emblem with her."

"You mean Lehran's Medallion?" Ike asked. "Yes, I remember... you took it with you to keep the dark god under control during the war." He shrugged. "But that war is pretty much over now, and you can't do any damage with the medallion unless you sing the galdr of release... which is obviously not something Elincia would ever do."

"Before yesterday, we also thought that abducting her friends wasn't something she'd ever do," Reyson grumbled, though even he did not seem to believe that Elincia wished to awaken the dark god trapped within the medallion, dooming all of Tellius in the process. "Regardless, the medallion was made by Lehran, ancestor of the heron clan! It belongs to us... and certainly not to... not to _her_!"

"I can see where you're coming from," Ike admitted. Then another thought crossed his mind. "I hope she didn't touch it by accident. It would be horrible if she went insane and killed somebody she cared for."

"Would it now?" Reyson asked, his tone uncharacteristically spiteful.

"Yes, it would," Ike replied sharply. "What's wrong with you?" The heron prince glared at his beorc companion for a few seconds, then lowered his head in shame. "I apologize," he said contritely. "I forgot what happened to your father... and your mother."

"No hard feelings," Ike said and recalled how his own ill-chosen words had affected Soren earlier. "It seems we're all a bit on edge today. Perhaps that'll change when we talk to Elincia and actually find out the reasons behind her actions."

"When _you_ talk to her," Reyson pointed out. "I have nothing to say to that woman."

"If that's how you feel," Ike said simply, since he was unlikely to convince Reyson to change his mind. The mere mention of Elincia seemed to have restored his sullen mood, and the conversation ran dry, leaving the two with nothing but waiting and watching the occasional traveler or cart pass them by on the road to the city. A pegasus made a short overflight over the area, and Ike suspected that the rider was making sure that Ike and Reyson had truly come alone.

_Feel free to look_, he thought._It's just us._ Angry or not, he trusted Tibarn not to abuse his trust by having some of his hawks secretly follow them. At the core of his personality, the Hawk King was quite honorable and despised subterfuge.

Ike considered himself a patient man by nature, and it seemed to him that less than an hour had passed when a single white horse left the city and made its way straight toward them, moving in a slow trot and in no particular hurry. When it came closer, Ike realized that it was not a horse, but rather a pegasus – whether it was the same from earlier or not, he could not tell – carrying a white-clad figure with long green hair. Reyson saw it, too, and he immediately stiffened. "Relax," Ike said, although there was little to no chance that the heron would actually offer Elincia violence.

_She's coming alone, without even a single guard_, Ike noted. Though he was not usually one to spot such subtleties, he was smart enough to know that this was a deliberate statement on her part: Even though he had been working for Tibarn, she still trusted Ike enough to enter his presence without protection.

_She knows I'll notice it, and she hopes that it'll make the negotiations go more smoothly. And since I know that she know's I'll notice it... ah, forget it._

"Leanne!" Reyson suddenly cried out, both happy and fearful at the same time. Puzzled, Ike followed his gaze and realized that Leanne was sitting behind Elincia, her delicate arms slung around her waist. Since she was smaller and thinner than her captor, she had been concealed behind her back during most of her approach, and could only be seen now that they were up close.

Upon hearing her brother's voice, Leanne stuck out her head from behind Elincia, her expression one of sudden relief. "Reyson!" she called out, and her brother almost dashed toward her, concern written all over his face. Ike stopped him, however, by putting a hand on his shoulder, gently reminding him that Leanne was still a hostage, and that he should not make a sudden move. He refused to believe that Elincia would go so far as to kill her, but if she became suspicious, she could turn her pegasus around and be halfway back to Melior before Ike or Reyson could even mount.

"I understand," Reyson said and clenched his fists behind his back. "But it is... difficult."

"Heron's shouldn't be angry," Ike lectured him half-seriously. "You're supposed to be balanced."

"You wouldn't say that if you were in my place," Reyson growled and shot an angry glare at Ike.

"If either of you has any excess aggressions, by all means, vent them on me." Elincia had brought her mount to a stop a mere five feet or so in front of Ike and Reyson, and Ike turned his gaze on her immediately. She was clad in her usual light armor and had a sheathed sword fastened to her belt, as he immediately noticed. Then his eyes traveled up her body and beheld her face, and although Ike was not easily startled, he could not help but cringe.

Her eyes were bloodshot and dark-rimmed, her skin so pale as to almost be white, and her once bright green hair had taken a sickly-looking yellow tinge. Her cheekbones were plainly visible, as if she had not been eating right, and there was a permanent scowl on her forehead. The physical change from the last time he had seen her – only a few weeks ago! – was so striking that Ike might have thought her a look-alike if he had not clearly recognized her voice. "You don't look so good, Elincia," was the only greeting he had for her.

"Though it pains me to say this, we are not here as friends, Sir Ike," Elincia said coolly, looking down on him without giving any indication that she would dismount. "Nor are we on the same side. I would have you address me as 'Queen Elincia' or 'Your Highness' for the time being."

"Are you serious?" Ike blurted out.

"Quite so," she replied in an arrogant tone that Ike had last heard three years ago talking to Empress Sanaki, and it had not sat well with him even back then. But just as with Sanaki, Elincia might not really mean to be so condescending – perhaps she had another reason for acting as she did. At any rate, Ike was determined not to let her sudden haughtiness get in the way of his concern.

"You don't look so good, Your Highness," he said, careful not to put any sarcastic emphasis on 'Your Highness'.

"I... didn't sleep well last night," Elincia replied.

"That's no reason to look so worn-out!" Ike said, angry that she was trying to put him off with such a bad excuse. "You look like you could collapse at any moment!"

"And wouldn't that be convenient for you," she replied. "Not only would you get Leanne back without giving anything in return, you could also take me prisoner. But I won't–"

"Take you prisoner? What's all this nonsense about?" Ike could only shake his head at the ridiculous things Elincia was saying.

"I entered your camp under false pretenses and abducted one of your friends," she pointed out. "For all intents and purposes, I am your enemy."

"Oh stuff it already!" Ike could see it now: It was all so obvious. And so typical of Elincia. "For some reason we don't know, you felt you had to abduct Leanne... and for all we know, it might even be a good reason." That last part earned him an angry glare from Reyson, but Ike was only focused on Elincia right now. "You feel like you'd be insulting us if you were to act friendly after what you did, so you act cold and hostile instead. You probably think you're obliged to, because you have done something questionable, but that's nonsense!"

"Questionable?" Reyson hissed, but Ike still refused to pay him any heed. His sister was right here, and clearly uninjured, while Elincia was most likely torturing herself for some reason only she knew. "Am I right?" he simply asked.

In response, Elincia gave him a long, contemplative look. Then her lips formed a thin smile. "You know me well, Sir Ike."

"I had a year to get to know you, Queen Elincia."

"But you know very little of what happened since then." Elincia's voice seemed to drift off. "The old Elincia has changed..."

"Yes, I know very little about what happened to you in the past weeks," Ike admitted. "So why don't you tell me?" added in a pleading tone.

"This has gone far enough!" Reyson intervened. "Or have you forgotten that we're here to take Leanne home?"

"Correction," Elincia said in Reyson's direction, "you are here to negotiate for her release. Nothing has been decided yet." In response, Reyson made a grunting noise and looked past Elincia at his sister. "All right, then I suppose I'll negotiate with you, Sir Ike," she said and looked at Ike again.

"I asked you before to drop the 'Sir'," he replied. "I'll still address you as queen if you insist, but there's no reason to–"

"I'm addressing you in that manner because of your past services to Crimea," Elincia interrupted him. "A past that is set in stone, no matter what the future may bring."

"Fine, then," Ike sighed. _I'll focus on ensuring Leanne's release first; perhaps then she'll be more open to talk to me. _"What are your demands?"

"Ike, you're supposed to say that Tibarn–" Reyson said, but Ike did not let him finish his sentence. "Tibarn entrusted me with the negotiations," he told him instead. "So please let me lead them as I see fit." He had no intention of revealing Tibarn's attack plan unless at all necessary, and if he knew Elincia, they would come to an agreement without threatening each other.

"You're being too soft!" Reyson complained. "She sided with the Empire against us and–"

"I did not side with anybody," Elincia told him. "I protected Crimea's sovereignty against two separate foreign encroachers. Hostages were taken from both sides."

"I... I didn't know that," Reyson said directly to Elincia, before recalling his resolution not to talk to her. "She may be lying!" he cautioned Ike instead.

"Or she may not be," he replied calmly. "I for one choose to believe her." He looked at Elincia again. "You were trying to keep our war from your land, correct?"

"Correct."

"Then I see why you did what you did," Ike said. "In fact," he recalled Soren's words from this morning, "you were acting with great restraint."

"If you can see that, then surely you know what I would ask in return for letting Leanne go," Elincia said. The hard look in her eyes had become a little bit more friendly.

"The promise that the laguz army will not return to Crimea," Ike said.

"Correct," Elincia confirmed. "Will King Tibarn agree to that demand?"

Looking past Elincia's head, Reyson was the one to answer that question..

"Tibarn said that it's too dangerous to continue war against Begnion as long as Crimea cannot be relied on to stay neutral. Therefore, he plans to return the army to Gallia and turn his attention to Kilvas." He made a meaningful pause. "He also said that he will not soon forget Crimea's betrayal."

"I doubt he will," Elincia sighed, then turned to Ike. "Can you confirm this?"

"Tibarn said the same things to me," Ike nodded. "And I believe he was being truthful. He seemed to have lost his... enthusiasm for this war."

"Then I have achieved a good thing," Elincia said, sounding at least slightly happy with herself. "Very well," she said over her shoulder. "You are free to go."

"I am... free?" Leanne asked, every word betraying anxiety. "Yes," Elincia said again. "Go and return to your brother's side."

"Th... thank you," Leanne said and slowly slid off the pegasus' back. For a moment, Reyson had an irritated look on his face, probably because she had actually thanked the person who had abducted her in the first place, but his irritation quickly gave way to relief when Leanne crossed the short distance between them. The two siblings embraced each other and spoke gentle words in the old language, and soon enough, both of them were crying softly. Ike peered at Elincia and saw her watching the two herons intently, and her expression, too, seemed to be one of relief. Then she noticed that he was looking at her and stiffened immediately, giving him a slightly contemptuous look. But his observation only served to reinforce his earlier conclusion: Elincia was forcing herself to act calculating and without displaying emotions.

"There's another thing, Your Highness" Ike said, recalling Reyson's earlier revelation. "Lehran's Medallion."

"Oh, that," Elincia said in a dismissive tone, as if she was talking about an old and worthless trinket. "I've decided to keep it."

"It belongs to the heron clan!" Reyson said, his furious tone a strange counterpoint to the tears in his eyes. "It is not yours to keep!"

"Would you trade it back for Leanne, then?" Elincia asked. "Never!" Reyson exclaimed, and the Queen of Crimea nodded with a satisfied smile. "I thought so. Then that matter is settled, too."

"I'm not sure," Ike interjected. "I mean... uh... what are even you going to do with it?"

"Well what do you think," Elincia quipped. "Awaken the dark god and destroy the continent?"

"Uh... I would hope not," Ike said, feeling slightly stupid.

"Of course not," Elincia said. "I will merely keep it as a bargaining chip for the future."

"But it's dangerous!" Ike tried another angle. "One touch, and you–"

"I know of its dangers very well," Elincia said with a sudden onset of anger. "Do not presume to lecture me!"

"I am sorry... Your Highness." Ike looked at Reyson. "You think Tibarn will be all right with that?"

"He is concerned mainly about Leanne," the heron prince said, still holding his sister in his arms. "He said that I should exercise my own judgement with regards to the medallion." He glared angrily at Elincia. "Don't think I'll surrender it forever," he told her. "Just for today... for the sake of my sister..." He looked at the city of Melior in the distance. "Besides, I don't want the people of Crimea to suffer for what their queen has done."

"That's a good way to look at it," Ike said. "You can keep it, then," he told Elincia – as if she required his permission. "That concludes the negotiations, doesn't it?"

"It would seem so." The Queen of Crimea looked earnestly at Ike, who returned her look with a conciliatory smile.. "Now can we please talk about you?" he asked. "You know you can tell me everything!"

"But maybe I don't want to tell you everything," Elincia said. Ike thought she sounded almost afraid. "Maybe there are some things I would rather not anybody know... least of all my friends."

"You believe that I'll think less of you if I knew?"

"I do not _believe_ it," Elincia said. "I _know_ it."

"I can forgive a lot of things," Ike said. "Remember Nasir's betrayal? It turned out he had his reasons, and no matter what you did, you must have your reasons, too."

"That was different," Elincia insisted. "Nasir betrayed your trust, so it was up to you to forgive him or not." She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. "But it is not your place to forgive the things I've done. They are not your concern."

"I can _make_ them my concern!" Ike said and made a step toward Elincia. Now that the hostage situation had been resolved, he felt at liberty to approach her more openly. "I am your friend, if you let me _be_ your friend." He extended his arm up toward her, and for an instant, she seemed almost willing to take his hand.

"I am glad to hear you say that," she said instead, smiling a sad smile. "But at the same time, you are also a mercenary," Elincia continued unhappily. "Bound to have divided loyalties between your employer and your friends."

"You know that's not true, Elincia!" Ike protested. "I follow my father's example. I don't work for just anybody. I'd never turn against my friends for money!"

"Then what would you have done if Tibarn had asked you to take Leanne from me by force?"

"Ike!" Reyson interrupted. "She has no right to interrogate you like this! Let's just take Leanne home!"

"No, you're wrong," Ike shook his head. "She has that right, because of what I am. Because I am a mercenary." He looked at Elincia again. "I would have refused his request," he said firmly. "I would have tried to dissuade him instead."

"But what if you failed?" Elincia asked. "Would you have stood by and watched as he did it himself?"

"I can only appeal to my friends," Ike said, "but not force them to do or not do something. If two of my friends were to clash... then I would not take sides. Unless..."

"Unless?" Elincia asked, almost eagerly.

"It's nothing," Ike said.

"It's never 'nothing'," Elincia insisted. "What were you going to say?"

"Unless one of them was clearly in the wrong," Ike said with a sigh. "So clearly that there could be no question at all, that every fiber in my body would scream to stop them." He shook his head, somewhat dismayed at this overly dramatic statement Elincia had drawn out of him. "But that won't ever happen," he was quick to add. "My friends wouldn't do something like that."

"No doubt they wouldn't," Elincia said hoarsely, and her pegasus made two sudden steps backward without her so much as touching the reins. "I understand now that it was foolish to ask you to stay as a Crimean general. You cannot be bound by such overly close ties of loyalty... and you shouldn't." She suddenly brought her pegasus about and looked back over her shoulder. "But we'll stay friends," she said with a hint of a smile. "And who knows... perhaps I'll hire you one of these days." Before Ike could think of a suitable reply, or of a way to stop her, she was galloping at high speed back toward Melior, leaving him to stare at her shrinking white figure in utter confusion.

"This didn't go as it should have," he finally said.

"As far as I am concerned, it did," Reyson contradicted him and gazed happily at Leanne, who seemed to be less intimidated now that Elincia was gone. "Now let's leave this place, because I'm not sure that we can trust her."

"_I _am sure," Ike replied sternly. "Whatever she may have done or may yet do... she would not lie to a friend. Conceal something out of shame, yes. But never lie."

"She is... hurting," Leanne suddenly said. "Very, very much."

"Don't talk about her like this," Reyson told his sister. "She was the one who abducted you and threatened to kill you!"

"I know," Leanne said, her voice shaky, yet strangely compassionate. "And I was... very afraid. But later... I saw that she was in much pain."

"You were in pain, too!" her brother protested. "And fear, and–"

"It's not a competition, Reyson," Ike gently reminded him. "Let it go."

"Fine," the heron prince muttered. "For now..."

"Did she tell you anything about what happened to her?" Ike asked Leanne. "About what makes her hurt so much?"

"No," Leanne shook her head. "I only... felt Elincia's pain."

"We herons can look into the minds of others as well as their hearts, but only if we're perfectly calm," Reyson explained. "And Leanne surely had little reason to be calm... So if Elincia did not tell her anything, then Leanne doesn't know anything."

"I wasn't doubting her words," Ike grumbled. "I only wanted to make sure."

"I know," Reyson said and sighed again – the longest, deepest sigh Ike had heard today. "I must appear terribly ungrateful to you, who tried his best to resolve this... situation. But I was beside myself with worry!" He looked at the ground where Elincia's pegasus had left its hoofprints. "I know that she isn't evil, but I still find it hard to forgive her."

"You're under no obligation to forgive her," Ike said firmly. "Nobody ever is, or forgiveness would be without meaning." He looked at the small white dot in the distance that was Elincia. "But I hope that you will try."

"I'll try," Reyson promised. "Though it is Leanne who has suffered much worse at her hands than I with my simple worries."

"I... I forgive her," Leanne said.

"Don't say it so fast!" Reyson scolded her, which in turn made Ike chuckle. "It's not a laughing matter," the heron prince complained, but he, too, seemed to be smirking. Ike knew this feeling that had overcome him: The typical onset of magnanimity after the danger was over, which distinguished a merciful army from a vengeful one.

_We're not actually an army_, Ike told himself. _And we haven't fought a battle, either._

Then again, he might be wrong on the second part. It felt as if the negotiations had been a battle, or rather a small skirmish, in a long, drawn-out fight for Elincia's soul. If the situation had been allowed to escalate, forcing Elincia to hurt Leanne, or Tibarn to attack Crimea and inviting her retaliation... then that skirmish would have been lost, which might well have been the beginning of the end for Elincia.

_I don't know why I'm thinking such morbid things. It's not like me at all._

"Ike, are you coming?" Reyson called out, and Ike turned to see that he had helped Leanne on the back of their horse. "Yes," he replied and walked over to them.

"I'm entrusting my sister to you," Reyson said. "Be sure to bring her back safely."

"And what are you going to do?" Ike asked doubtfully.

"Why, I'll go on ahead," Reyson said and made a few steps backward to have some room around him. "After all, somebody should bring Tibarn the happy news. And he doesn't like to be kept waiting." He put his fists before his chest, and then there was a blinding flash, and the cry of a bird. Ike found that watching a laguz transform still filled him with a small sense of wonder – it was not so much the miraculous change in appearance, but the sheer casualness with which they switched between forms.

_It's like changing clothes for them. No, even more basic. We beorc really have nothing that compares._

"I suppose you'll be faster that way," Ike told the large white heron. "I'll see you when I get back." Unable to use human language in this form, Reyson let out another cry, flapped his elegant wings and took to the sky. Looking after him, Leanne called out a farewell in the ancient tongue, and before long, her brother had vanished among the clouds.

"What wouldn't I give for wings like that," Ike grumbled and approached his horse, deftly dodging an attempted bite as he mounted it. "But it looks like the two of us are stuck with each other on the journey home," he told the mare, and it replied with a contemptuous snicker. "Hold on tight to me, Leanne," he said over his shoulder, and only spurred his horse when he felt her thin arms wrap around his waist.

"You have much worry," she said without being prompted, her voice barely audible over the sound of the hoofbeats. "About Elincia."

_She really can't stop doing this, can she?_

"Yes," Ike admitted without hesitation – somehow, he felt completely at ease talking about his feelings with Leanne. "I'm worried. I want to help her. I want to ask her again what happened. What changed her so."

But Ike knew that all the questions in the world were meaningless if the other person did not want to answer.


	19. Rest and Relaxation

Part III: Queen of Sacrifice

**  
Chapter 19: Rest and Relaxation**

When Elincia descended from the conference room in the second floor into the palace gardens for a much-needed breath of fresh air, the position of the sun told her that it was just about noon. It had been a busy day so far, high point of a busy week starting with her release of Leanne. She had spent the last four hours attending the first regular meeting of the assembly of nobles after Ludveck's failed rebellion. Those despicable people had caused her nothing but headache, as they always did, but at least they had not threatened her with rebellion or blackmailed her into murdering a friend this time. In fact, she had achieved at at least one major success while staying on barely civil terms with the nobles.

They had accepted – after arduous negotiations – her candidate for the vacant countship of Fayre: Silok, an orphan of the Mad King's War, barely twenty years old and of a shy and outright timid disposition. Elincia doubted that the young man would find much pleasure in his new position, but he had been insistent for some time now to be given a chance to show his devotion to the crown. Alm and his ilk had believed that she was going to use 'that craven boy' to rule Fayre by proxy. But she had managed to pass off his appointment as an act of patronage and nepotism instead, since his father had been a lifelong friend to her father, and sure enough, that way of thinking had made a lot of sense to the nobles, and they had finally given their grudging consent.

Glad to finally be out of that room full of horrible, self-centered people, Elincia walked through the mostly empty palace gardens and let the midday sun shine on her face; something she desperately needed judging from the recent paleness of her skin. As she strolled among the hedges, she reflected on some of the other notable events of the past week, such as the ongoing interrogation of General Zelgius that was proving frustratingly unfruitful. Ever the stalwart soldier, he refused to volunteer any information about what was going on behind the scenes in Begnion, demanding proof that his master Valtome was alive. Elincia could not possibly show him such proof, and her assurances were not enough to satisfy Zelgius who seemed to suspect the truth about his master's fate.

He also kept rejecting Bertram's claim that he was the Black Knight of Daein, calling it utterly ridiculous and the the delusion of a deranged mind. Threatening to reveal his identity made no impression on him, either. "Your only proof are the words of an insane man," he had said, "and nobody in Tellius will buy his story." Frustrating though that claim was, it was also most likely true. "Sir Ike would believe me, though," Elincia had pointed out. "And I'm sure he would love to meet you again."

"He doesn't seem like the man who would cut me down without a weapon," Zelgius had replied. "And if he is... well, I'm a soldier. I have looked death in the face more often than I can count, and I've long since ceased to fear it. Whether General Ike is the one to kill me or one of your executioners, it makes no difference." Had he not been her enemy, Elincia would have applauded Zelgius' resolve, but seeing as he had murdered several of her soldiers, she could spare no admiration for him.

On the positive side, her court mages had, in a series of experiments, solved the mystery behind the yellow powder found in Zelgius' possession: It was indeed a magical substance of Begnion manufacture, and it could be used to teleport to any place the user could imagine in his head – even if he or she had no magical talent at all. The only downside was that the user found himself drained of most of his strength after perusing the powder, which bespoke General Zelgius' enormous power, since he had still been able to defeat Bertram after using the powder. Amazed and a bit terrified by this Begnion invention, Elincia had locked it away in the most secure vault of the palace. The powder was clearly worth its weight in gold many times over, and even though she could think of no practical applications right now, that might very well change one day.

Another positive development was that Begnion's Central Army, having lost both its commanding Senator and General, had agreed to leave Crimean territory. Without any further coincidences, they had crossed the border toward their fortress city of Flaguerre. But they had not dispersed, taking up quarters within and around the fortress instead, presumably waiting for new orders from Sienne – and perhaps a new general to lead them back into Crimea.

_Geoffrey is out there right now keeping an eye on them and reinforcing our border defenses_, Elincia told herself._ He'll send word to me at the first sign of trouble. Until then, I should place my trust in him and not fret about things outside of my control._

She was worrying too much as it was, Elincia decided, and with the release of Leanne, the discovery of the warp powder, and today's appointment of Count Silok, it had been a rather successful week, all things considered. Therefore Elincia decided that she would take the rest of the day off and escape the confines of the palace for a few hours. Hiding her long, green hair under a headscarf and donning a simple brown garment, she informed the captain of the guard about her plans, and politely declined an armed escort that would have thoroughly defeated the point of her disguise. She arranged for the usual signal in case of emergencies – a particular sequence of ringing the palace bell that would reach her ears at any spot within the capital, and alert her to hurry back immediately.

Having ensured that she would be able to react to an emergency with minimal delay (while praying at the same time that no such emergency would happen), Elincia left the palace grounds through a back door and walked the streets of Melior, with no particular goal in mind. Moving among the people with their identities hidden was a tried-and-true tradition for the rulers of house Ridell, for it allowed them to at least get an occasional glimpse of how the common people were living, and it was one of the traditions that Elincia honored gladly.

Stopping occasionally and listening to a group shortly before moving on, the Queen of Crimea slowly made her way through the crowded streets, and heard many stories about both the joys and hardships of peoples' lives. They seemed, by and large, unconcerned by both the recent rebellion and the Begnion incursion, with only very few people talking about them, focusing their attention on their day-to-day lives instead. Elincia took this as a confirmation that she was doing well as queen, and that all the pain and sacrifices of the last few weeks had not been for naught. It was a very reassuring feeling, and it helped soothe her battered heart a little – in spite of her constant fear of inadequacy, she seemed to be doing something right after all.

_For as long as things stay this way, I'll be able to continue on, no matter what the future may bring_, Elincia thought. If there was to be no happiness for her, then she could at least partake in the happiness of others, if only in a furtive manner. She found herself involuntarily giggling at the thought, imagining herself as some kind of happiness leech, only to be sobered by the realization that this was not how normal people lived.

_So what? Nothing about my life has been normal, and that's never going to change._

During the first few times she had been walking among the people, in the early, thoroughly sobering and disenchanting months after her coronation, Elincia had dreamed of never returning to the palace, living a simple commoner's life instead. She had grown used to a harsh lifestyle during her travels with the Greil Mercenaries, soon accepting aching joints and blistered palms as a fact of life for an army on the march that could not afford to take along an idler, even if she was a princess. No, the thought of earning her daily bread with physical labor held no horror for Elincia, but the thought of abandoning her friends and her people had stopped her from ever seriously considering a clandestine abdication. And even though her misery had increased tenfold since those days, her resolve had grown by the same amount, and she no longer even entertained the notion of running away. She had a duty to perform, and perform it she would for as long as she was able.

Elincia's highly-minded thoughts were suddenly interrupted when she bumped into another pedestrian, resulting in a painful collision of heads. She rebounded and almost fell over backwards if not for the bodies of several others cushioning her. Rubbing her head in pain and ready to apologize, she looked up to the person with whom she had collided, only to find herself at the receiving end of an angry tirade.

"Would you watch where you're going?" the tall, blond woman demanded, her tone as haughty as her entire appearance. "What's it with young people these days, running through the streets with no regard for their betters? Didn't your parents teach you any respect?"

"Calill!" Elincia called out in surprise, unimpressed by the woman's angry ravings (she had heard much worse).

"What, now we know each other?" Calill asked, visibly irritated that she might have to cut her offender some slack if she was an acquaintance. "Or have you just heard of the beauteous and intelligent Calill? Why, I suppose I've become the talk of the city ever since settling here..."

"No, I actually think we've met once or twice," Elincia said dryly. "But it's good to see that my disguise is working."

"Your disguise?" Calill asked. "What are you babbling, girl..." Her eyes widened in shock. "Goodness, no! I'm sorry, Queen–"

"Sssh!" Elincia put a finger to her lips, and Calill got the hint before blurting out the queen's name in the middle of the street. "So you're incognito," she said and nodded. "Ah, my bad. Still, I apologize for taking such a tone with you."

"You wouldn't apologize if I were anybody else, would you?" Elincia asked. She liked Calill well enough, but the woman clearly had some double standards. "So just stay true to yourself."

"Well, if you insist..." Calill sighed. "There are so many rude people walking these streets, I just–"

"It's fine," Elincia said with more emphasis, since hearing the arrogant mage turned innkeeper apologize sounded wrong somehow. "What a coincidence, bumping into you here," she said in a more casual tone.

"Not much of a coincidence," Calill replied and pointed at the sign hanging over the entrance of a nearby house, reading 'Ike's Tavern' – a rather ironic name, seeing as Ike had never actually been there, to the best of Elincia's knowledge. "I just returned from dropping off Amy at a friend's for a sleepover. Care to come inside?"

"Happily," Elincia said with a smile and followed Calill into her establishment, an old two-story building with the ground floor housing the inn proper and Calill and her family living upstairs. Judging from the few times Elincia had visited, business was going well; right now, however, it was still early afternoon, and there were only a handful of patrons. Largo, the former berserker and veteran of the Mad King's War, was manning his post behind the counter, locked in a fierce arm wrestling contest with Devdan, the idiosyncratic halberdier whom he had befriended during the war. Both of them were too focused on their contest to notice the two women entering, but another patron did, turning around on his bar stool and casting his one-eyed glance at the two women.

"At last, the mistress of the house returns," the black-clad man said in Calill's direction. "It seems like the spirit of hospitality left with you." He nodded in the direction of Largo and Devdan. "These two have been going at it like cavemen ever since you departed." He accusingly raised his empty jug. "Your husband didn't even see fit to refill my drink."

"He has the heart of a child," Calill sighed and walked around the counter. "And sometimes, also the brain of one." She knocked Largo on the head with the back of her hand, but the one-armed giant did not seem to take notice. Shaking her head in exasperation, Calill bend forward and covered his eyes with her hands.

"Hey, what..." Largo growled, more annoyed than surprised, but he was distracted enough for Devdan to take advantage, slamming his opponent's hand on the counter with a victorious cry.

"How about you focus on the customers instead of your childish games?" Calill asked in a stern voice.

"I love it when you're angry," Largo replied and greeted his wife with a feral grin, trying to peek a kiss on her, but she deftly avoided him. "First, the customers!" she said.

"Danved is also a customer," the victorious arm wrestler piped in. "And now Danved wants to have his promised free drink for winning five times out of nine."

"Hey, the last one doesn't count!" Largo protested. "I was... I was being sabotaged!"

"How often do I have to tell you not to gamble with customers for free drinks?" Calill threw up her hands in despair. "It's no wonder we're not getting rich!"

"We're getting by," Largo said while he was pouring in a drink for Devdan. "Isn't that enough?"

"Oh, how far I have fallen," Calill sighed as she also filled a jug with beverage. "I used to be a cosmopolitan! A woman of wealth! And I gave it all up for this seedy joint..."

"The things you do for love," Largo said with a wide grin.

"Oh shut it, you big brute." Calill turned to the black-clad man on the other side of the counter and handed him the filled jug. "There you go, Haar. This one's on the house, to compensate for the horrible service."

"I've come to think of it as part of this place's appeal," the freelancing wyvern rider said as he took a mouthful of ale. "So don't undersell your establishment. I always like to pay a visit when business leads me to Melior." He turned his one-eyed glance on Elincia, who had been watching the whole exchange with growing amusement. "Not to mention that it's probably the only inn in town where the highest circles of society deign to visit."

"You've always had a sharp eye, Sir Haar," Elincia said and stepped away from the entrance toward the counter, unsurprised that the twice-deserter had recognized her even in her commoner's clothes. "It has to do the work for two, so it better be sharp," he replied and raised his jug. "Cheers, Your Highness."

"Sshh!" Elincia hissed, but Haar merely pointed in the direction of the back room, where the only three other customers were sitting at a table, two of them half asleep in drunken stupor and one of them talking to himself with a slurring voice. "Those fellows are a couple of pints past the point where they could recognize your name, much less remember it once they're sober."

"I suppose you're right," Elincia said and seated herself on an empty bar stool between Haar and Devdan. "I'm glad to find all of you in good health," she said. "I haven't seen any of you since the battle at Fort Alpea, and I'm happy that you all made it through without injury."

"Danved _was_ injured," the dark-skinned soldier to her left corrected Elincia. "He was speared in the behind by a cowardly knight." His usual, easy-going expression vanished for a moment, making room for a deep frown. "It made Danved very angry."

"It can't be that bad, since you've been sitting on your butt for an hour now," Largo interjected. "You're exaggerating, like always."

"Danved doesn't like to complain to others," his friend said with a strangely solemn expression, raising his index finger as if he was explaining something rather basic. "He can endure the pain." He peered at Elincia. "But if you also think Danved is making things up, then I can show you the scar." He slid off his stool and began undoing his belt, only to be stopped by Calill leaning over the counter and pulling at his ear. "Have you no shame?" she hissed. "You don't show the queen your butt!"

"Danved only wants for the truth to be known," the halberdier retorted, still not dissuaded from presenting proof of his injury. "He is an honest, simple man."

"There's no need to show me," Elincia said hastily. "I believe you, Devdan."

"It is good that you believe me," he replied, but there was a new, critical expression on his face. "But my name is not Devdan. It's Danved. You really should try to remember that."

Before Elincia could say anything in reply, Haar began to laugh. "Truly, Your Highness, if you came here in this get-up to be treated like a commoner, then you sure got what you bargained for." He put down his jug on the counter. "The kind of people who would visit a pub in the middle of the day are not the ones to show much respect for their supposed betters."

"And that's perfectly fine with me," Elincia replied honestly. "I mean, I didn't exactly plan on coming here, but now that I am... please, everyone, just act as you always do."

"You may come to regret those words," Calill said in a despairing tone, "once you see Danved dancing naked on the counter."

"He did that?" Haar asked. "Why does the fun stuff always happen when I'm not around?"

"You have a strange definition of 'fun'," Callil replied. "Though I suppose it was better than the alternative."

"Which would have been?" Elincia asked with giddy interest.

"For Makalov to strip and dance instead." Calill shook her head, no doubt in reminiscence of that scene. "But for once, that useless lump won a bet."

"Speaking of the devil, I don't see Makalov around," Haar interjected, taking another sip of ale. "Isn't he the most regular of regulars?"

"Makalov hasn't come in for a week," Largo said. "Very strange. I wonder if something happened to him."

_Marcia is probably working him to the bone after I admonished him back in the palace gardens_, Elincia thought. Yes, perhaps his absence was a sign that Makalov was trying to conduct himself more like a knight. Or maybe he was just drinking someplace else. Who could say?

"Anyway," Elincia said after a short, but awkward silence, "I didn't have the opportunity to thank any of you after the battle against the rebels. So let me make up for it now." She took a deep breath. "Thank you."

"Well, this is awkward," Haar said. "You know that one of your underlings payed me a nice sum in compensation after the battle, right? So it's not like I was acting out of the goodness of my heart."

"Of course you weren't," Elincia said, knowing well that Haar was nowhere near as callous as he wanted others to believe. Unlike, say, Volke, he managed to balance the needs of the heart with the needs of the purse. "You're a sellsword through and through," she said anyway, but with a smile.

"Isn't that nice to hear," Calill sighed. "So why is he the only one who got paid?"

"Because unlike you, I'm not a Crimean citizen," Haar said, saving Elincia from answering that question herself. "No offense, but I've had enough bad experiences with Begnion and Daein to risk my life for queen and country without compensation." He looked at his jug of ale. "And besides, I'm leaving a good chunk of that money here, so you really can't complain."

"Far be it for me to complain about my lot in life," Calill said haughtily. "A perfect woman like me takes it all in stride."

"Right you are, my perfect woman," Largo laughed and wrapped his arm around his wife's waist. "A perfect match for a perfect guy." This time, she allowed him to kiss her.

"Danved is happy he could help," came Devdan's voice from the left (Elincia refused to think of him as Danved unless he presented proof that he was truly a different person). "And he doesn't need much money. Money is not good for the soul."

"Hear, hear," Haar said. "What an admirable attitude. I think I may copy it... at some far-off point in the future."

"Just great." Calill was hand-wringing at this point. "One day, all of our customers will be too enlightened to concern themselves with mundane things like money, and be unable to pay at all." Her gaze suddenly wandered to Elincia, as if she only now had realized something. "But I've been a terrible hostess! Letting a guest sit there without something to drink... and not just any guest!" She produced a wine bottle filled and presented it to Elincia. "It's a 621 from Albore – an excellent vintage, I've been told. I can think of no person I'd rather open it for than you, Queen Elincia."

"As long as you won't try to get me drunk, I'll gladly take a glass," Elincia replied.

"I'm not sure we have a glass," Largo muttered. "At least not one that's been cleaned lately." Calill glared at him with furious eyes, and only Elincia's giggle saved her husband from being berated again. "It's fine," she said. "I'll be able to stomach drinking from a used glass."

"It's not about what you can stomach, Your Highness," Calill lectured her, "it's about my pride as the proprietor of this establishment." She searched feverishly through the area behind the counter, only to come up empty and finally give up, putting an empty, but clean, jug down in front of Elincia. "It's no wine glass," she sighed, "but I guess it'll do." She held the bottle in front of Largo's face. "Open!"

"Right," her husband said and pulled the cork with his teeth, and even though she knew she was being tactless (he was only doing this because he was missing an arm, after all), Elincia could not help but giggle again.

"Tsk tsk tsk." Haar made a sound of mock-disapproval. "Making fun of the handicapped? How shocking."

"Oh stuff it." Largo brought down his fist on the counter and grinned at Elincia. "That accident was my own damn fault, you know? So laugh at me if you want. I deserve it for being so stupid."

"Self-realization is the first step toward self-improvement," Calill said to herself, which made Largo burst out into laughter. "You couldn't hurt my feelings even if you tried," he said. "I have a thick skin."

"That's good to hear," Elincia said and accepted the jug from Calill. "Thank you." She took a sip and found the wine to be dry and thoroughly fermented, much more to her taste than the overly sweet stuff coming out of the palace wine cellar (not that she was much of a drinker, but it was expected of her during some social occasions). "It's very good," she said, which made Calill glow with pride. "Is it, really? I'm glad the salesman wasn't just boasting. I picked it up over a year ago, but there was never a guest special enough to warrant opening it."

"Should you really say that in earshot of your regulars?" Haar asked skeptically. "Not that I care, mind you. I prefer beer myself." His good eye peered at Elincia. "To be honest, Crimean ale isn't as good as the stuff we had back in Begnion. But after eighteen years of drinking the goat piss that goes as beer in Daein, I've learned not to be picky."

"Haar!" Calill glared at him. "Don't use such vulgar language around the queen!"

"I doubt she minds." He looked at Elincia. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," she replied simply.

"There you have it," Haar said smugly in the general direction of Calill. "Maybe you haven't realized it yet, but your queen isn't a fragile flower anymore. I'm sure the late Duke Ludveck could attest to that." His words were followed by an awkward silence, as if Devdan had decided to bare his behind after all, except less humorous. "You're perfectly right, Sir Haar," Elincia said after a while, having decided not to meekly defend her decisions anymore. "A fragile flower can't rule a country without ruining herself in the process, and I'd rather bring ruin to the enemies of Crimea."

"Well spoken," Haar said. "But to tell the truth, you actually surprised me back then. I would have wagered a sack of coin that you would have spared Ludveck out of some misplaced sense of mercy." He emptied his jug with a last gulp, then pushed it toward Calill to have it refilled. "Don't get me wrong," he continued. "Mercy is great when dealing with pickpockets and horse thieves, or common soldiers who're just doing what they're told. But if you start an armed rebellion that kills thousands of people, you don't get a second chance. Seems pretty clear-cut to me." He received his refilled jug out of Calill's hands and raised it. "Cheers."

Elincia felt a bit deceptive, since her real reason for hanging Ludveck had been her anger about Lucia's death – an anger that had resurged multiple times since then, and that she desperately had to get under control before it overcame her again. It would have been better to condemn Ludveck for the reasons Haar had mentioned, dispassionate and not directed by personal feelings. If, Goddess help her, a similar situation were ever to arise again, she would have to keep his words closely in mind.

_If not for Lucia's death, I probably would have spared him, and nothing good could have come from that. So you could say I did the right thing for the wrong reason... but at least I did the right thing._

"Let's not dwell on unpleasant matters from the past," Calill tried to chance the subject, possibly also because she and the others surely knew about Lucia, and did not wish to remind Elincia of her. It was not so much for that reason that Elincia agreed to talk about something else – she had learned a while ago to talk about Lucia's death without breaking out into tears – but simply because she had left the palace to get away from the dreary business of being a queen for at least a few hours, to refresh herself so that she could face the new crises that were bound to befall her and her country sooner or later (preferably later). And although she was determined never to waver from her duty, she was also realistic enough to know her limits, to know that no person could endure the kind of stress she had lived through without refilling her drained energies. For this afternoon and the evening that followed, Elincia just wanted to share stories with companions of old, laugh about crude jokes and not give a damn about what people might think of her.

She was not disappointed in that regard: The afternoon passed quickly as the five former comrades exchanged stories and relived memories from their time together, unclouded by the troubles of the recent past. When evening came and the tavern filled up, Elincia cautioned her friends not to mention her name, but due to the rising noise level, such concerns seemed overly cautious even to her.

In the end, long after darkness had fallen and the bells rung midnight, Devdan _did_ dance on the counter, though thankfully with his clothes on, and Elincia discovered with some surprise that the wine bottle had been emptied completely – somebody else also must have drunk from it, she told herself. Feeling more than a bit tipsy (not a bad feeling at all, if she could say so herself), she did not fend off Calill's offer to escort her back to the palace. Haar also left at that time, citing the need to rise early tomorrow for a delivery, while Devdan stayed for a while longer to keep Largo company and perhaps arm-wrestle him some more.

After reaching her unloved residence, Elincia waved goodbye to Calill, entered the palace grounds and announced her return to the relieved captain of the guard before slowly making her way to her room on the third floor. She was just alert enough to lock the door behind her, then she let herself drop on her bed and was asleep before she knew it.


	20. A Mere Piece of Paper

**Chapter 20: A Mere Piece of Paper**

Elincia was sitting on her throne, wearing a formal dress and a light, silver circlet in place of a cumbersome crown. She was holding audience for Silok, the new Count of Fayre, and had just formally appointed him to his position. The young man was standing before her, his own nervous tendencies combating his desire to behave in a solemn and dignified manner, as he did his best to maintain eye contact with his queen without looking at the floor now and again.

He was dressed in a ceremonial orange robe that was a bit too long for him, and he wore a monocle over his left eye that he had been using for as long as Elincia had known him. His pitch black hair had been freshly cropped for the occasion, contrasting with the fact that in his nervousness, he had forgotten to shave this morning. He only now seemed to realize his neglect when he nervously rubbed his stubbled cheek with his hand, and proceeded to immediately blush and polish his monocle with his sleeve. Seeing as she cared more about Silok's attitude and ability than about the state of his grooming, Elincia ignored his embarrassment, to his great and visible relief.

She had just formally assigned most of Bastian's impounded fortune to Silok, making him one of the richest men in Crimea in the process – the fact that Bastian had no heirs had made this possible. With this, Silok would be able to see eye to eye with the other nobles, who could draw on massive family fortunes of their own. They were already bound to belittle their new peer for his age, but they would not belittle him for his poverty, too.

"I accept this endowment most graciously," Silok said, his head slightly bowed. "I swear to use this fortune for the betterment of the people, and not to squander any portion of it for my personal benefit."

"That would make you the first," Elincia quipped, knowing from experience that conspicuous spending was an integral part of the aristocracy's lifestyle. Even Bastian had been a collector of expensive works of art, something she had always frowned upon, but never openly addressed. "You may find that you will have to do things in your new position that you do not want to do," she added. "Spending money being the least unpleasant among them."

"You are speaking from experience," Silok said.

"I am," Elincia replied curtly and could not help but wonder what Silok would do if he knew about the fate that had befallen his predecessor. Would he look down on his queen with contempt? Perhaps, for his morals had never been tested as hers had been, and he still maintained an idealistic view of the world. However, he was unlikely to abandon his new duty out of fear that he might share the same fate one day: Elincia suspected that for all his outward timidity, there was a harder core at the center of Silok's being that few people suspected.

_He must be tougher on the inside than he appears to be,_ she thought as she remembered Silok's fate during the Daein invasion three years ago. He and his parents, both nobles of lower rank, had lived in Delbray at that time, only a few miles from the Riven Bridge. Even more so than the rest of Crimea, they had been utterly surprised by the invasion and had been unable to escape. Silok's parents had been murdered before his eyes by a Daein commander who then had taken the boy as his personal property and brutally beat and abused him for half a year before members of the resistance under Geoffrey had found and freed him during a nightly raid. But in spite of his ordeal (about which he volunteered little detail, and people knew better than to pry), Silok's spirit had not been broken, and he had immediately pledged himself to the resistance and the restoration of Crimea.

During a short meeting in the last stages of the Mad King's War, Silok had told Elincia that he had maintained his hope and sanity only because of her: Laborers and servants pressed into work by the occupiers had told him amazing stories about the secret princess fighting against Daein in far-off countries. Fashioning an image of that princess he had never seen before, Silok had turned her into his personal patron saint, to shield his spirit and soul in the face of corporeal abuse. He had told her all that during their first encounter, overwhelming Elincia with his sincerity and gratitude and leaving her at a loss for words. However, her silence had not diminished Silok's adoration in the least: He seemingly had been quite content to merely look at her and speak to her, and only several months later, when Elincia had invited him to live in the palace while doing clerical work, had they had a chance to talk normally. In the three years since then, Silok's hero worship of both his queen and his liberator Geoffrey had slowly transformed into a more reserved form of loyalty rather than reverence, to the point that Elincia had actually begun to feel comfortable around him. But even in her presence, he still maintained the nervous mannerisms acquired during his captivity, and Elincia doubted that he would ever wholly get rid of them.

"I'm sure I'll make mistakes in the beginning," Silok said now, interrupting Eincia's reminiscence, "but I'll do my best to learn from them. I will not disappoint you!"

"With that attitude and your natural diligence and intelligence, you should be fine," Elincia said, only to note with amusement that Silok polished his monocle again in response, his cheeks red. "And if you're ever faced with a problem that seems impossible to solve," she continued, "remember that it's a short trip from Fayre to the capital. So if you ever need my advice, I'll be listening."

"I'll keep your offer in mind," Silok said graciously. "Although I hope–"

A loud knocking on the throne room door interrupted him. "Come in," Elincia called immediately; she had ordered the guards not to be disturbed unless something important came up, so she guessed that something important _had_ come up.

_Recently, most important news turned out to be bad news,_ she thought bitterly, but made sure not to display her anxiety openly. A member of the palace guard entered the throne room, along with a middle-aged man clad in exquisite white garments and with a haughty look on his face.

"This messenger from the Begnion Empire just arrived," the guard informed Elincia. "He claims to have come at the behest of the Senate."

"I do not 'claim' such a thing," the Begnion emissary said with an indignant frown, in open breach of protocol by speaking without being asked by the queen. "It is the truth." He looked at Elincia as if she was somehow beneath him, paying no attention to Silok who had stepped aside to let his queen get a clear view on the arrival, eyeing him nervously. "The esteemed Vice-Minister Lekain will deign to meet you now," he said. "Prepare to receive him."

"You mean–"

_'You mean Lekain is here?_' was what Elincia wanted to say, but she stopped in mid-sentence when suddenly, amidst a circle of glowing lines on the floor, a tall, white-robed man appeared in the middle of the throne room. He was carrying some sort of large staff in both hands, and as if his sudden arrival had been the most natural thing in the world, he let his interested gaze wander throughout the room, passing over Silok without stopping and finally meeting Elincia's glance.

"My dear Queen Elincia," Lekain greeted her with an amiable smile. It was definitely him, Elincia knew – she would have recognized the Vice-Minister even without the messenger's words. He was well-fed, just shy from corpulent, and had a stern, regal face framed with blond hair and a moustache. He still looked the same as when Elincia had first met him three years ago in Sienne when she had tried to win the Apostle's favor.

"Vice-Minister Lekain," she answered, trying to hide her suprise at the man's sudden appearance. Had he used warp powder? But then he would have to be physically exhausted, would he not?

"I am sure you are asking yourself right now," Lekain said in a strangely affable tone, "how did he get here?" He smiled widely and raised the staff he was holding before his chest. "Using this marvelous piece of magic technology, I can travel to anywhere on the continent in an instant... though I would never use it to barge in uninvited, of course. That is why I sent my messenger to inform you of my coming."

_Just because he informed me doesn't mean you were invited_, Elincia thought, but she voiced no protest, although the implications of Lekain's appearance were very unsettling. After the Zelgius incident, she had instructed her palace guard to watch out for invaders using warp powder, but the fact that the powder drained the user's strength made it unlikely to be used for assassination or invasion. This staff of Lekain's on the other hand did not seem to have the same effect, seeing as the Vice-Minister was not weakened at all..

_I can think about this later. Now I must focus on Lekain and whatever it is he wants._

"This rewarp staff is one of its kind," Lekain continued, dispelling some of Elincia's worries (though he might very well be lying), "and I have taken a great liking to it. It is so very convenient to return instantly to my holdings in Gaddos after a long, exhausting debate in the Senate. And it also allows me to evade anybody who would try to... accost me." He chuckled. "Though I doubt anybody would be foolish enough to try."

_I get your meaning_, Elincia thought. _It won't be possible to take you hostage like Valtome._

"You can leave now," Lekain told his messenger, and the man quickly left the throne room along with the somewhat stupefied guard who had brought him. "I... I should probably go, too," Silok said, but Elincia shook her head firmly. "You can stay." She wanted him to learn first-hand about the kind of people he would be dealing with on a regular basis from now on – powerful, wealthy and unscrupulous in equal parts – and she could scarcely think of a better specimen than Lekain. After all, he was one of the most influential people in the Empire, very nearly outstripping the Apostle herself, who often struggled to translate her divine status into actual politics, and locked in a perpetual power struggle with the shrewd Prime Minister Sephiran.

"Of course," Lekain said jovially, "your attendant can stay. After all, I'm here to have an open and honest conversation between neighbors."

"I see," Silok said with a doubting look and withdrew himself to one of the throne room's windows, content to watch from there and be out of sight of the queen and her uninvited guest.

"Now, as the first order of business, I would like to meet my esteemed colleague, the Duke of Culbert," Lekain began. "According to my intelligence, he is currently enjoying your... hospitality."

"I am afraid your intelligence is out of date, Vice Minister," Elincia said. Beating around the bush was pointless, since Lekain would suspect Valtome's fate sooner or later. "Senator Valtome took his life out of shame," she lied.

"Did he do that, now," Lekain said, raising his bushy eyebrows. "How very strange. I never knew him as the type to give up on life so easily." He shook his head. "Of course this must be very upsetting to you, seeing as he died under your watch. More distrustful minds than myself might think that the circumstances of his death were more sinister. And the Senate is full of distrustful minds."

_Observe, Silok. Lekain wasn't fooled for a second. He knows that I killed Valtome, though he can only guess at the circumstances. But he's still keeping up appearances, because he believes he'll get what he wants more easily that way._

"You would accuse the Queen of Crimea of murder?" Elincia asked sharply. Lekain was not the man for empty bluffs, but she still had to take what little chance there was to call him on it. "That would not serve to foster a trusting and friendly relationship between our countries."

"Ah, if only it were up to me, there would be no trouble," Lekain lied. "But I am subservient to the majority in the Senate... and I'm afraid my peers are very conscious of their own safety. I regret to say that there would, in fact, be many to accuse you of having a hand in the late Duke Culbert's death. And if the majority agreed with them, well..."

"Well what?" Elincia asked.

"I'm afraid they would consider it a declaration of war."

"I see..." _Goddess, please let him be bluffing! If my killing Valtome would result in another war... I don't know if I could live with that._

"However," Lekain continued with a generous smile, "although I am only an humble servant of the Empire and its Apostle, I am not entirely without influence among my peers. In fact, I am respected greatly for my moral integrity and generosity... so greatly that I might convince them to let the matter of Senator Valtome rest. As long as Crimea showed herself duly contrite for not preventing his death... and ready to make amends."

_Now he means business._ "What kind of amends do you have in mind, Vice-Minister?" Elincia asked. "Releasing General Zelgius from our custody, perhaps?"

"Ah, no," Lekain raised his hands defensively. "I wasn't trying to make it sound as if we were making demands on you, like common hagglers. Far from it."

"So you would be ready to abandon Zelgius just like that? Is he not a valuable asset for the Empire?" Elincia desperately wanted to get _something_ of value for releasing Zelgius – after all, he was of little worth for her down in the dungeon.

"I am sure the good general would not approve to being used as a bargaining chip, like a piece of silver," Lekain said. "Rather than dishonoring him so, the Begnion Empire would like to lay a new, strong foundation for our relations with Crimea... a foundation of friendship, trust, and the willingness to learn from each other. I have found that only such a strong foundation can be the basis for a long, lasting peace."

"You're speaking of a formal treaty between Begnion and Crimea?" Elincia asked. Ever since the client kings of Crimea had declared their independence from Begnion, the Empire had never acknowledged its lost child as an independent nation. However, this refusal had been a mere formality, and though the influence of Begnion-friendly aristocrats was running strong in the assembly of nobles to this day, Crimea had charted her own course through history until today.

"Precisely," Lekain nodded. "And I am pleased to be able to present you with a completed draft for such a treaty, already signed by my humble self." He fastened his rewarp staff to a his belt, pulled a curled-up piece of paper from his robes and straightened it. "Please have a look and tell me if it would please Crimea to sign this."

"I'll take a look," Elincia said cautiously and accepted the paper from Lekain's hands. The treaty consisted of about a dozen lines, carefully written in ornate scripture, and she quickly read it once, then twice, then for a third time. Then she angrily cast the paper aside and glared at Lekain.

"This isn't a treaty of friendship! It's one of submission!"

"Now, now," Lekain said and picked up the piece of paper, straightening it again. "Let's talk about the spirit of the treaty, not the letter."

"Why, if the letter says it all?" Elincia asked. The gall of this man! Did he think he could subdue Crimea with a piece of paper? "The monarch of Crimea hereby agrees to become a client to the Begnion Senate, and follow its majority decisions with utmost diligence and devotion," she quoted from memory. "Through him or her, the province of Crimea shall follow the guiding hand of her benevolent neighbor, the Begnion Empire, wheresoever she might lead." She pointed at the document in Lekain's hand. "Signing this would mean the end of Crimean sovereignty!"

"But my dear Queen Elincia," Lekain said cordially, "surely you do not believe that we would actually try to enforce these terms."

"Then why make them in the first place?"

"The exact wording of the treaty was decided by the foreign policy committee of the Imperial Senate, headed by the esteemed Senator Keldon." Lekain sighed. "He is a man who lives in the past, and dreams of the time when Crimea was under direct Begnion overlordship, before your grandfather's ascension. He would like to restore that ancient state of affairs, if only in name... and the majority agreed." Lekain smiled winningly. "However, seeing as Begnion's actual foreign policy is dictated largely by myself – in collaboration with the esteemed Prime Minister Sephiran, whose illness has necessitated my coming – I can assure you that we would never dream of interfering with your rule in any way."

"I appreciate your personal assurances, Vice-Minister," Elincia said, not appreciating them one bit, "but I'm afraid that words alone cannot compensate for the outrageous phrasing of this treaty."

Lekain nodded sagely to himself, as if he was seeing something others could not see, or as if a prediction he had made had come true exactly as predicted. "There is a saying in Begnion, Queen Elincia," he said after a while. "Paper doesn't blush."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Will you truly force me to speak frankly?" he asked.

"I'm afraid I must insist. This matter is too important to leave it in the realm of half-understood meanings."

"I see your point," Lekain said. "Very well, then. Are you familiar with the treaty of friendship that was signed between your grandfather and the erstwhile King of Daein in the year 583? The one that was supposed to guarantee 'eternal peace and good relations' between your two nations?"

"I am familiar with it," Elincia replied. Though it had never been planned for her to become queen, she had been taught much about history and politics of her country – just in case, as her tutor had said. _And I can see now where he's going with this._

"Then tell me, Queen Elincia... when the late King Ashnard of Daein crossed the Riven Bridge with his invasion army three years ago, did the contract fly up to him to bar his way? Did the letters peel away from the paper and launch themselves at his troops like arrows? Did that famed treaty do anything to stop your land from being ravaged by war?" Elincia preferred not to answer his rhetorical question.

"Treaties have no power on their own," Lekain elaborated sagely. "They are just tiny dots of ink on paper, forming words that may be ignored by either side. Whether a treaty is kept or not depends on the will of both sides to make it happen."

"So why sign it at all, then, if it's so worthless?" Elincia asked.

"Because the Senate would consider it a gesture of good will!" Lekain added in a lower, almost conspirational tone: "And it would serve to make them forget about the mysterious circumstances of Senator Valtome's demise... forget about punishing Crimea."

_Is this the price I must pay for killing that man? It doesn't seem particularly high... but could there be a catch?_

"You may be asking yourself right now, 'is there a catch?'," Lekain said generously, irritating Elincia by reading her thoughts, or so it seemed. "But surely you can see that there is no way we could enforce this treaty even if we wanted to, except by force... and if we wished to force our will upon you, then the treaty would not stop us."

"But Crimean steel would," Elincia replied coldly.

"Oh my," Lekain chuckled, "I chose my words poorly. I did not mean to threaten you with violence... just to point out that a mere piece of paper will not give Begnion any power over Crimea. Therefore, you have nothing to lose by signing it – but a lot of good will to gain."

Elincia doubted that the Senators of the Empire were capable of much good will, at least if Valtome was any indication. She was also certain that they would at least try to invoke the terms of the treaty at some point in the future, if only to see if they could get away with it. But they had no means of compelling Crimea that they would not already have without the treaty. At least in that regard, Lekain was clearly speaking the truth.

Silok audibly cleared his throat to her far left side; not because he had anything to say (he was much too reserved for that), but rather because he was simply nervous. His presence, however, reminded Elincia of yesterday's meeting with the nobles. Among other things, Duke Alm and his cronies had asked her to improve relations with Begnion after the incursion of the Central Army (which, in their minds, Elincia could easily have prevented by siding with the Empire against the laguz). _They would love it if I signed this. And it is in my interests to throw them a bone now and then._

"Your words were... persuasive, Vice-Minister," Elincia said with a forced smile. "I will consider them more closely and get back to you with–"

"If you allow me to interrupt you, Queen Elincia," Lekain said without actually waiting for her permission, "the Senate has instructed me to bring back the signed treaty within the hour, or not at all." He smirked apologetically. "I'm afraid my peers are even now waiting anxiously for my successful return. So I would like you to make your decision right now, and not postpone it until later."

"Your 'peers' sound like impatient children," Elincia said curtly.

"These 'children' also command the Central Army... which happens to still be gathered in Fort Flaguerre, just across your border," Lekain pointed out, without an ounce of hostility in his words. "I understand that signing this treaty would injure your pride as a queen, but isn't that better than injuring your lands and your people?"

_And again, it comes down to a threat of war. But that doesn't make sense! If the Senators are truly upset about Valtome's death, why would a phony treaty like this satisfy them? Are they really so conceited and removed from reality that they would forgive Crimea in return for a purely symbolic submission?_

_Well, considering what Valtome was like, that might just be the case..._

"Fine," Elincia finally said derisively, "if it means that much to you..." She put out her hand toward Lekain. "Since you're in such a hurry, I assume you brought quill and ink?"

"Ah, but you see..." Lekain put his free hand before his mouth, suddenly appearing embarrassed – a strange emotion for a man who surely had never felt the need for shame in all his life. "Well, how shall I say this..."

"Outright?"

"You're very frank, Queen Elincia," Lekain said with a smile. "It'll be a pleasure to work with you in the future." He took a deep breath and explained. "As you know, the people of Begnion are second to none in piety, obeying the will of the Goddess in all things."

_More like the will of the Apostle and the Senate_, Elincia thought, but aside from that, it was true: The citizens of the Empire were well-known for their devotion to Ashera. "And what does this have to do with anything?"

"There is a new religious custom in the higher circles of the aristocracy – the most pious of the pious. When signing a binding contract, the party that is making an obligation is expected to demonstrate their sincerity and good faith by... making the signature with their body's own blood."

"Blood? D-did you say... blood?"

The heads of Elincia and Lekain turned toward the young Count Silok, who so far had managed not to draw attention to himself, but was now anxiously staring at the Vice Minister, wetting his lips with his tongues. "Did you say blood?" he repeated, only slightly more composed than the first time.

"Only a small quantity, to be drawn from the finger," Lekain said with an amused glance in Silok's direction before he smiled at Elincia. "I seem to have invoked some gruesome imagery in your nervous attendant. My apologies."

"No, that's... that's not what I mean," Silok stuttered. "I... I'm not sure... but..." He did not continue and stared at the floor instead, his cheeks reddening.

"Count Silok, please remain silent and attentive," Elincia said, her tone more stern than she had intended. Turning to Lekain, she frowned at the Vice Minister and shook her head.

"I have never heard of such a custom, and even if I had, I do not think it appropriate at all. It sounds ridiculous."

"Religious customs often seem ridiculous to the uninitiated," Lekain mused. "I beg you to reconsider. The Senate puts great stock in observing–"

"No," Elincia said decisively and rose from her throne. "Not unless you give me a better reason for why it needs to be blood."

"Blood is the life force that flows through us all," Lekain lectured her. "Is there a better symbol for a pact between two equal parties than the one thing we have all in common?"

"Rubbish!" Elincia cried out. She did not know precisely why, but Lekain's story stank, and badly. "I have no idea why you're so insistent in this, but something is very fishy here."

"I dislike eating fish," Lekain said in a conversational tone. "Perhaps because a cousin of mine died when a bone was stuck in his throat."

"Drop the false indifference, Lekain," Elincia told him. "You're convincing no one. It is very important to you that the treaty be signed with blood, and unless I know why, I will not agree to this!" From the corner of her eye, she saw Silok nod vigorously, but he remained silent as by her instruction.

Lekain, too, was silent, his unreadable gaze resting firmly on Elincia. For almost a minute he stared at her, not moving an inch, nor shrugging or blinking. Elincia met his gaze, and a tense silence was lying in the air of the throne room.

"If that is your final decision, then there is no longer a reason for me to be here," he finally said and unfastened his rewarp staff from his belt. "Prepare yourself for the consequences of your... recalcitrance." With an indignant look on his face, he raised his staff, and with a flashing light, he was gone from the throne room.

_Did I just provoke war over a trivial issue?_ Elincia asked herself as soon as he was gone, finding herself under the familiar onslaught of self-doubt. _Of course not! _she decided after a moment's consideration. _If the blood signature really is a trivial issue, then the Senate would be insane beyond belief to go to war about it. And if it was some kind of trap, then I did the right thing._

The sound of Silok clearing his throat caught Elincia's attention, and she walked over to the window where he was standing. "Well, that was Lekain," she said wryly. "I hope you enjoyed his performance."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Silok said sincerely. "I didn't mean to just blurt out those words earlier. It was just..."

"Don't worry," Elincia consoled him, "I very much doubt that you were the reason for Lekain's dismay." She remembered Silok's shock when Lekain had mentioned the idea of signing in blood and grinned. "Did you think he was going to cut me up or something?"

"No, it's not that!" Silok protested. "I wasn't sure then... and I'm still not sure."

"What do you mean?"

"I like to read," Silok said. "A lot. It's one of my hobbies, you could say."

"I know," Elincia nodded. Whenever she had entered the royal library during the last three years, Silok had been there, sitting before a pile of books, often even failing to notice the arrival of his queen. "And?"

"It's just a vague memory of something I read in a book," Silok said while chewing on his lower lip. "Something about Begnion, and signing things in blood."

"Can you be more specific?" Elincia asked.

"No, not yet," Silok said and looked at Elincia apologetically. "But I'm sure I read it somewhere here, in the royal library." He suddenly fell to his knees so fast that Elincia thought he was fainting and almost tried to catch him."Please, Your Majesty, allow me to delay my journey to Fayre for a few days, so I can conduct some research on this matter! I know it reflects badly on me to neglect my new duties already, but I have the feeling that this could be very important."

"Silok, please, stand up," Elincia urged him, and he hesitantly obeyed. "I don't think you're shirking from your duty at all. I know you wouldn't make this request if you didn't think it could be of vital significance."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"Just don't spend too much time in the library, since the nobles are skeptical of you already... that with you being too young, and all."

"I'm only two years younger than Your Majesty," Silok said with injured pride. He was often told that he was 'smart for his age', and Elincia knew that the 'for his age' part dismayed him.

"That's why I said the nobles are skeptical, not me. I have no problem with your age."

"Oh... yes, you said that." Silok blushed and polished his monocle with his sleeve – he always seemed to do that when embarrassed, even if the monocle was perfectly clean. "I'm sorry. I should listen to you more closely."

"You don't need to say 'I'm sorry' all the time," Elincia said with a deep sigh. Of all the people she had regular contact with, Silok was without doubt the most nervous and easily intimidated of them all, and he would probably keep apologizing to her until the day he died. "You're free to go right now if you like."

"Absolutely!" Silok said and made for the door, but froze in his tracks after only a few steps. "Which isn't to say that I want to escape from your presence or anything!"

"I'm not thinking that," Elincia sighed. "Go on. I promise you that if I'm ever angry at you, I'll let you know without any doubt."

"I'll do my best to ensure that this day never comes," the new Count of Fayre said and bowed. "I'll let you know as soon as I have results." With his orange robes fluttering behind him, he hurried toward the door, opened it just wide enough to fit through, and was gone.

"With his nerves, he should be happy if he lives until thirty," Elincia muttered. However, there was no denying that Silok was both intelligent and devoted, and so she let him be himself.

_Now, on to more important things_, she thought and summoned a courier to deliver an express message to Geoffrey on the Begnion border. "The Empire may take aggressive steps without further warning," she dictated. "Fortify the border as heavily as possible. If Begnion attacks, take any measures you deem necessary to repel them."

With a smart salute, the messenger departed, leaving Elincia alone. The decision for or against war was now out of her hands. Everything depended on what Lekain would do. And that knowledge made her very uneasy.

* * *

The fortress city of Flaguerre was a rather unimposing sight, at least for somebody like Vice-Minister Lekain, who was used to the architectural extravaganzas of Sienne, from the Grand Temple Mainal to the Tower of Guidance. The drab, grey buildings of Flaguerre, most of them constructed for military rather than civilian use, offended his sophisticated sense of aesthetics, but Lekain was nothing if not dutiful and would suffer this deprivation of grandeur for as long as was necessary. Which, fortunately enough, should not be very long at all.

"My good General Levail," Lekain addressed the young officer who had been sent by the Senate to replace General Zelgius in command of the Central Army. He had found him on a large square in the middle of the fort where the command center had been established. "When I heard that my colleagues on the military committee had chosen the leader of my own personal forces for this position, I felt quite honored." he said jovially. "It will allow me to take credit for your no doubt splendid future achievements."

"I am honored by your trust," Levail said. He was always very taciturn around his liege, but Lekain was not bothered by that; in fact, it spared him from having to engage in small-talk with his underling. "Negotiations with Crimea fell through, I'm afraid to say," he informed Levail.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Levail answered, and he actually sounded sorry – a sincerity that almost made Lekain chuckle. "What about General Zelgius?"

"What about him?" Lekain asked, slightly irritated by this question, since he had just been about to ask a question of his own.

"I mean, is he alive?"

"Who can say?" Lekain shrugged. "Maybe he is alive, somewhere in a Crimean dungeon. Or maybe he was killed along with Valtome. It is of very little importance."

"My lord, he is our finest general!" Levail protested.

"Our finest general would hardly allow himself to be captured," Lekain said sharply. "Now enough of this." Levail's expression was one of obvious dismay, but he kept his mouth shut, and as far as Lekain was concerned, that was all an underling had to do.

"I need your military expertise," the Vice-Minister said. "What are our chances of conquering Crimea?"

"Are... are we at war with them?" Levail asked incredulously.

"That would be none or your business," Lekain told him. "If we are at war, you will fight; if not, then not. Now, your assessment of the situation!"

"Yes, my lord," Levail said reluctantly. "Crimea's network of border fortifications is formidable, with Fort Pinell as its crown jewel. And all of their smaller border forts have been manned with full-sized garrisons, so there will be no slipping past them as General Zelgius did."

"What's this talk about slipping past them?" Lekain asked. "I want to know if we can crush them!"

"We have no siege weapons, though we should be able to procure some from Mugill on short notice," Levail said. "Until then, our only possibility would a frontal assault on one of those forts to create a gap in their defenses. But if we tried that, the Crimean Royal Knights would circle around us and drive us against the walls. Also, they may well receive support from the la... from the sub-human army that General Zelgius chased back into Gallia." Seemingly unmoved by Lekain's increasingly critical stare, Levail concluded his analysis. "Due to our numerical superiority, victory would still be likely. But we would take very heavy losses."

"Hm," Lekain said with a dissatisfied grunt. "Well, we can't have that."

"I'm happy that you care about the lives of our men, your excellency."

"I care about not losing too many of the Empire's assets," Lekain corrected Levail, once again amused by the man's naiveté. "Every one of the soldiers under your command has cost time to train and money to equip. I would hate to throw so much of that time and money away."

"I... see." Levail said simply. _I am certain that you do, my boy_, Lekain thought. "So you will not order a full-scale assault?" the general asked hopefully.

"Not yet," Lekain replied meaningfully. "Only after Crimea's attention has been turned elsewhere, and most of their soldiers withdrawn from the border forts."

"But how do you suppose we achieve that?" Lekain asked.

"You? Oh, no, general, you will not do anything except keep your men drilled and ready to attack, while our allies provide the necessary distraction."

"What allies, Vice-Minister? I don't know of any–"

"You just leave that to me," Lekain said with a patronizing removed his rewarp staff from his robe. "I'm certain that King Pelleas will be delighted to help us out one more time... as will King Naesala."

* * *

_AN: After a short period of relaxation, there's more trouble for Elincia - who would have thought? After all, killing Valtome was bound to come back to haunt her big time.  
_

_Also, introducing Silok (who is technically a canon character, if only in name). I don't plan on inventing any more OCs after this, but the lack of named nobles prompted me come up with him and Duke Alm. They both serve their purpose, but will not overshadow the established characters._

_Other than that, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Until next update!  
_


	21. War Comes Back

**Chapter 21: War Comes Back**

Everything was falling apart around Elincia. Whatever feeble optimism she had felt a week ago had proven unfounded, treacherous even. Once again, Crimea was beset by the scourge of war.

It made no sense, none of it. Lekain's strange demand during his visit three days earlier? Nonsensical. His insistence to start a war over it? Positively insane. If he had wanted war from the beginning, why the charade with the treaty and the blood? Madness.

The ravens of Kilvas ravaging the eastern provinces, burning and pillaging without restraint and killing all who opposed them? Not much of a surprise in and on itself, seeing how King Naesala's greed for gold was legendary. But him refusing to defect from Begnion, even after being offered double the price the Empire paid him just so he would leave Crimea alone? That was against all rational self-interest.

And worst of all, Daein. Like a swarm of black ants marching across the Riven Bridge, they had re-enacted the invasion from three years ago, with no rhyme or reason as to why. Was King Ashnard's son out for revenge? Was Daein, too, on the payroll of Begnion? Was it some kind of religious crusade led by the 'Maiden of Dawn'? There was no way to know. The only thing Elincia knew was that most of Delbray was already under control of the invaders.

There was no way to relieve Delbray, or to aid the people under attack by the ravens, for the Begnion Central Army was still waiting just beyond the border – waiting for Geoffrey to withdraw even a small portion of his strength, so they could surge out from behind the walls of Flaguerre and crush the defenders with superior numbers.

Kilvas in the east, Daein in the northeast, and Begnion ready to strike in the south. That was the predicament Elincia found herself in. Within three days, the damage done to Crimea had already exceeded that of the Ludveck Rebellion. The nobles, particularly those whose lands were being affected by the invasion, were up in arms against the queen, calling her ill-prepared and incompetent. Hundreds, if not thousands of people had been killed, and that was before a major battle had even been fought.

But in spite of all this, Elincia had to face the onslaught of despair that was threatening to overwhelm her, had to stand strong, even as things fell apart around her – because there was nobody else who could. Who would she entrust Crimea to? Alm or one of his cronies? Not unless they dragged her cold, limp body off the throne.

The knowledge that it was up to her, and her alone, to save Crimea, was perhaps the one thing that helped Elincia through the first three, dreadful days of this war without losing herself to despair. During that time, she had done what little she could do to soften the savage strikes under which her country was trembling.

She had instructed the magistrates of Melior to accept any and all refuges from the east, so that they could at least save their lives, if not their homes and crops and livestock. She had also arranged for enough foodstuff from the western provinces to be brought into the capital – the Duke of Albore, a cold-hearted miser, as well as the despicable Duke Alm himself had agreed to help, though both of them had made it clear that they expected compensation in the future. Let them worry about the future, Elincia thought – she had to worry about the present.

She had sent missives to Gallia and even Phoenicis for help, hoping that King Caineghis saw the danger of a Begnion-occupied Crimea, hoping that King Tibarn's hate for Naesala outweighed his hate for her. None of them had answered yet, and Elincia knew that the chances of either laguz nation rushing to her aid were slim. But it had to be tried, even if the answer was only a regretful shrug in case of Gallia, or a contemptuous laugh in case of Phoenicis. Pride meant nothing to Elincia now that the very existence of her country was at stake.

And even before supplicating Gallia and Phoenicis, she had sent for the one best hope remaining to her – the one who had fought for her when nobody else had dared, who had toppled kingdoms in his wake, and whose very name would strike fear into the hearts of those attacking Crimea...

"Your Highness!" A member of the palace guard pushed through the door into throne room without knocking, for protocol had little meaning in times of crisis. He sounded excited, almost elated, and he was bringing the first piece of good news in three days.

"Sir Ike has arrived! The Greil Mercenaries are outside the city!"

_I knew he would come!_ Elincia thought and rose from the throne. "Send him to me immediately!"

"He is already on his way," the guard announced proudly. "I thought it would be unnecessary to ask you if you would see him."

"And you were right," Elincia said, happy that someone other than her had dared to take the initiative for once, even if it was only in such a small matter. "We have no time to lose, after all." The guard left the throne room, proud to have been praised by his queen, and Elincia awaited Ike's arrival with growing impatience. It was a bit frustrating to depend on him and his mercenaries once again, but there was no helping things – and of all people, Ike was least likely to take advantage of her dire situation. The fact that he had brought his men with him told her that he would help, and defer questions of payment until after the country was saved.

When Ike finally arrived, perhaps ten minutes after the guard's announcement, he found Elincia calm and composed. She quickly explained the situation to him, sparing none of the disheartening details, and he agreed to fight in the defense of Crimea.

"Now the question becomes: Where do we go?" Ike asked. He was standing before Elincia, who had risen from the throne and met him below the stairs so that she would not tower over him like an authority figure. He looked as if he was ready to move out at any moment, the large sword at his side the only thing he needed to fight. "Reinforce Geoffrey and try to attack Begnion head-on? Chase King Kilvas out of your lands? Or go up against Daein again?"

"Geoffrey has assured me that he can keep the Empire out of our borders, or at least make any attempt so costly that they would lose half their army in the process," Elincia said. "Yours is a comparably small, elite force. You can make more of a difference elsewhere."

"Agreed." Ike nodded. "The ravens, then? They are closer than Daein and are wreaking more havoc."

"That is true," Elincia said, "but they are also far more mobile than you. They can retreat and attack somewhere outside your reach, and be gone again before you've caught up. You could slow them down, but in the meantime, the Daein army would make its way to Melior while it is almost completely undefended. Kilvas won't be able to take the capital, not without heavy armor, which they don't have. Daein, on the other hand, could."

"So we will ignore the raven tribe and halt Daein's advance," Ike nodded. "That's probably the best idea, although it will mean more damage to the land in the short term."

"It can't be helped," Elincia said bitterly. "Besides, I've grown quite used to choosing the lesser of two evils and living with it."

"The two of us really need to talk," Ike said, his voice suddenly rife with concern, as it had been during the negotiations about Leanne's release. "You can tell me about your problems, and your fears."

"Right now, my problems and fears center around the various armies trying to destroy Crimea!" Elincia snapped. Ike, of course, was not impressed by her outburst.

"I didn't mean right now, of course," he said. "But after this is over..."

"After this is over!" Only Ike could make victory appear so certain, defeat so out of the question... but Elincia could not share his optimism without reservations. "Either of us may be dead after this is over! Perhaps both."

"That is possible," Ike conceded dismissively, as if he was acknowledging the possibility of something as severe as a sudden rain shower. "But I don't believe it. We both know how to survive, you and I." He grinned. "Also, you don't have to yell at me. My hearing is fine."

"I... I yelled?" Elincia frowned. "I suppose I did." She sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Ike, but as you can imagine, this situation is taking its toll on me."

"You've been through worse," Ike said simply. It was a very Ike-like thing to say, Elincia found.

"I suppose I have," she said with a cautious smile. "But that doesn't mean I should have to go through this every couple of years."

"If I understand the situation right, I am partially to blame for this," Ike admitted. "My company participated in the war against the Empire, and if not for that, the Central Army would never have been mobilized."

"That is true," Elincia said, satisfied that Ike was not denying his responsibility. "However, the damage is done, and berating you won't help Crimea." Although she knew that Ike could take harsher criticism than this without overreacting, she decided to leave it at that – time was too precious to waste for dwelling on past mistakes.

"Let's get back on topic," Elincia said. "Which would be Daein's army."

"How strong is their invasion force?" Ike asked. "They just fought a war of liberation against Begnion. I don't know much about the details, but their army can't be that large, since Begnion pretty much kept them demilitarized."

"You're correct," Elincia said. "Their numbers are much smaller than during the war three years ago. But so are Crimea's... not to mention that Daein has a new supreme commander."

"The 'Maiden of Dawn'," Ike said. "We've had a run-in with her back in Begnion."

"You did?" Elincia asked in surprise. She had never been interested in details about the war between the laguz alliance and the Empire, but perhaps that had been a mistake. "So Daein was supporting Begnion even back then?"

"Looks like it. They tried to cut off our escape route after we lost against General Zelgius. They failed, but they inflicted heavy losses on a Gallian regiment."

"So it is true what they say about her. She is supposed to be a formidable tactician."

"Well, we did beat them in the end... even though they fielded the Black Knight against us." Ike frowned deeply. "To be honest, I wasn't really that surprised to find him alive. It turned out that he had been fighting for Daein earlier."

"The Black Knight?" Elincia could not hide her surprise. _But that means Betram was wrong! Unless... was Zelgius crazy enough to don his black armor and fight for Daein while abandoning his own army? The warp powder would have enabled him to do just that, but... it seems totally insane._

"His armor had lost his blessings somehow," Ike mused. "So even if he's with the invasion force, we'll be able to beat him." His hand wandered to his sword grip. "I'll be able to beat him. Again."

"I'm sure you will," Elincia said cautiously. She knew that Zelgius could not be with that army, but she decided not to tell Ike about his secret identity at this point in time. "So you've faced the Maiden of Dawn before," she said instead, "and Soren was able to out-think her. That's good to know."

"But she commands fanatical loyalty among her soldiers," Ike said. "Many of them died with her name on their lips." He shrugged. "Then again, fanaticism isn't actually a very good trait for a soldier to have. Overwhelming emotions will just get you killed on the battlefield."

"That sounds like something Soren would have said," Elincia remarked casually.

"I suppose," Ike growled in response. "I've been told before that he's rubbing off on me."

"One could think of worse influences," Elincia said. "Though perhaps not many."

"That was mean."

"Then it's a good thing Soren didn't hear it." Elincia smirked. "But please warn him not to underestimate the Maiden. Just because he defeated her once doesn't mean he'll defeat her again."

"I always hear 'he defeated her'," Ike complained. "But we warriors did the actual fighting, you know." He sighed theatrically. "I will relay your warning," he continued before spending a moment in contemplation. "What was Daein's last known position again?" he asked then.

"They were approaching Delbray Castle. But I doubt they'll waste time trying to take it, since their objective is probably Melior."

"Delbray," Ike nodded again. "That's where we met Geoffrey and the others."

_The others..._ Elincia could not help but shudder. Fortunately, Ike did not notice it. "I still remember the terrain around there, and I'm sure the others will, too. That should give us an advantage."

"Uh... yes, sure."

"Well, that's everything I need to know," Ike said, then hesitated. "But Soren will want to gather as many details about the enemy as possible. I think it would be best if he could speak to someone who has seen the Daein army."

"Marcia," Elincia answered immediately. "I sent her to scout their position several times. She's three times faster than a scout on horseback, since she can just fly over the Marhaut mountains."

"Marcia? That's good. Her observations were always reliable. Where do we find her?"

"Just ask the guards to look for her," Elincia replied. "They're uncannily good at finding people, and they'll be happy to assist General Ike."

"I'm not a general anymore," Ike growled.

"You try to tell them that."

"If people could just stop thinking of me as some kind of hero," Ike sighed. "I just do what I think is right."

"That's more than many other people do," Elincia replied earnestly, and the unwilling hero had no retort to that. "If that's all, then I'm ready to go," he said instead. "No, wait," he changed his mind. "Actually, there's one more thing."

"What is it?"

"Lehran's Medallion," Ike said bluntly. "I think you should give it back to the herons."

"This is not the time for such discussions," Elincia said harshly. By neither glimpse nor movement did she betray that the medallion was actually in her belt pouch at this very moment, where it had been been ever since she had taken it from the hands of the slain guardsman Caros. She knew that it would probably be safer in her vault, next to the bag of warp powder, but that was the first place somebody would search if they tried to steal it. No, she would rather keep in on herself, preferably without letting anybody know that she did.

"You're wrong," Ike contradicted her. "This is precisely the time."

"How so?"

"Right now, this war is still in an early stage, but it could spin out of control very fast. During the laguz war against Begnion, Leanne and her brothers used seid magic to keep the dark god locked inside the medallion. But they can't do that as long as you have it."

Ike's words made Elincia frown. What he said had merit – and he would not say it merely as a ploy to get the medallion back for his heron friends. He was truly concerned about the dark god awakening... and since such an event would mean doom for all of Tellius, she should be concerned about it, too.

"But during the war against Daein, the medallion was in Ashnard's possession," Elincia pointed out, trying to convince herself as well as Ike. "The herons didn't have access to it, either. And still nothing happened."

"But something could have happened," Ike said with a frown. "We have no idea how close we came to disaster at that time."

"Every single nation on Tellius except for Goldoa was involved in the war to liberate Crimea, and the dark god did not awaken. This war, on the other hand, only involves half of them: Crimea, Begnion, Daein, Kilvas. According to simple logic, nothing bad should happen."

"You're making this too easy," Ike disagreed. "We don't know the exact conditions for the dark god to awaken, only that the continent has to be embroiled in war. It could be the size of the armies, or the number of the fallen... or anything. Can we really take that risk? Remember, if the dark god awakens, Crimea will be destroyed, too."

Elincia found herself wavering between agreement and reluctance. One the one hand, Ike was speaking nothing but the truth... but on the other hand, the medallion was an object of enormous power. In a world with no guarantees, where war and calamity could strike at any moment, without much in terms of warning, she felt she could not give up such an object, even if she could not find an immediate use for it. But of course she could also not run the risk of destroying the continent...

"I'll keep a close watch on the overall situation," Elincia decided. "If this war approaches the Mad King's War in scope, I will invite one of the herons to the palace so they can–"

"That's madness!" Ike interrupted her. "They would never agree to your 'invitation'... not after what you did to Leanne."

"Is that so?" Elincia asked, her tone sardonic. "Then I suppose the threat posed by the medallion isn't so big after all..."

"I don't like that reasoning," Ike said. "It's callous and selfish."

"You've never been one to mince your words," Elincia replied. "I appreciate that. But my decision is final."

Ike sighed and shook his head. "I don't know what's going on inside you, Elincia."

"Maybe I don't want you to know." An awkward silence followed and was only broken when Ike cleared his throat. "Well," he said, "if that's how you feel about it, then that's how it is." That, too, was a very Ike-like thing to say, Elincia thought. "I'm leaving, then," he added, "unless you still have something to tell me?"

"Don't get yourself killed, Ike," Elincia said, determined to end their discussion on a conciliatory note. "That is all."

"That should be easy enough," Ike grinned. "Even with the Black Knight returned, Daein is still just a shadow of their former selves. We'll beat them all the way back to Nevassa as long as you foot the traveling expenses."

_He surely is self-confident. Then again, he always was._

"That's it, then," Ike said, as weary of long goodbyes as ever. "I'm on my way." He turned around, walked briskly toward the door and left the throne room.

_That went reasonably well_, Elincia thought as she watched him leave. _Good luck, Ike._

Feeling somewhat relieved and far less desperate than a mere half-hour ago, Elincia climbed the stairs to her throne and seated herself. Ike was taking care of Daein, and Geoffrey would hold off Begnion; that left only the pillaging ravens to be dealt with. But she had absolutely no forces to spare other than the palace guard, who consisted of mostly older soldiers, and of course herself. Dared she make a sortie against Naesala with such an inadequate force? No, the risk was too great.

_Even Bertram went with Geoffrey to the border_, she thought with dismay. _He would be a match for at least a dozen ravens, picking at his armor until their beaks go blunt._

Then there was General Zelgius, of course, a warrior even more powerful than Bertram. Could she perhaps trick him into going up against Naesala somehow? No, out of the question. Zelgius was no fool, and the moment she handed him back his sword would be the moment he turned it against her.

_I'll just have to accept that there's nothing to be done about it at the moment_, Elincia. thought. _Perhaps if the Greil Mercenaries are victorious sooner than expected, they can–_

"Your Majesty!" A guard had entered the throne room again. "There's a Gallian warrior here who wants to see you as soon as possible."

"A Gallian?" Elincia's interest was roused immediately. "Send him in." The man nodded, left, and a few moments later, a large, broad-shouldered beast laguz entered the throne room. He wore a blue shirt, had light blue hair and a gentle expression on his face that contrasted his imposing physique. He looked as if he could not hurt a fly, unless the fly attacked him, and even then only reluctantly.

"Mordecai! What brings you here?" Had he come as an emissary from King Caineghis? To tell her that Gallia would send help... or not?

_Good grief, I could at least let him say something before I start worrying!_

"Hello, Elincia," Mordecai greeted her and approached the throne. "Are you well?"

"As well as the circumstances allow," she replied and rose to meet him halfway. "Did you see Ike on your way here?"

"Yes." Mordecai nodded. "But he was in a big hurry. He said there was no time to talk."

"That's because I just gave him an important mission."

"I understand." Mordecai shook his head sadly. "You are at war again."

"It looks like I just can't catch a break," Elincia jested, although she was hardly in the mood for jokes. "So what brings you here?" She hesitated for an instant, then asked the question she really wanted to ask. "Will Gallia fight with us?"

"No." She had prepared herself for that answer, but it was still a bit of a shock. "Our elders... they are angry at you," Mordecai elaborated. "They say you helped the Empire."

"And King Caineghis can't go against the majority of the elders," Elincia sighed. It was the exact same scenario as three years ago. "I understand."

"The king is very sorry," Mordecai stated. "He said: 'This is the second time I cannot help Crimea'." He suddenly grinned widely, in strange contrast to the sobering news he had just brought. "But I had an idea."

Hope returned to Elincia. Mordecai was earnest and sincere to a fault, and she had virtually never see him grin like that. "What do you mean?"

"It is difficult to say in beorc language. But I will try." Mordecai scratched his head, then spoke carefully. "Gallia's soldiers obey the king. They only go where the king sends them. They cannot choose where to go." Mordecai explained. "But the... the not-soldiers..." He frowned at his own inadequate choice of words. "They can go where they want." He grinned again. "And King Caneighis said: The soldiers who want to help Crimea are not soldiers anymore." With a turn of his hands, Mordecai concluded. "So we came here."

"I... I think I get it," Elincia said, though the tiger laguz' account had been somewhat confusing. "King Caineghis dismissed those of his soldiers who want to aid Crimea so they could come here as... as private citizens?"

"Yes, private... citizens," Mordecai said, finding it difficult to pronounce the words. "That's the beorc word for not-soldiers."

"I... I don't know what to say," Elincia stuttered. "So you left your service to the king... and your rank and standing... just to help Crimea?"

"We helped Crimea in the... re-construction," Mordecai said, referring to the period just after Ashnard's death. "If you lose the war... all will be destroyed again." He shook his head resolutely. "We don't want that. And so, we will fight."

"Thank you," Elincia whispered and averted her gaze because she felt moisture well up in her eyes. "You didn't have to do this... and still you came. Thank you so much. All of you."

"We are not so many," Mordecai said apologetically. "About three hundred."

"That's more than enough to make a difference," Elincia said and looked at Mordecai again. "So where are the others?"

"They wait outside the palace. They said I speak for them." He smirked. "They said I speak the beorc language best."

"What about Lethe?" Elincia asked for some reason – perhaps because the female warrior was almost always around Mordecai. "Did she..."

"Lethe did not come." Mordecai lowered his head in regret. "She said: Elincia betrayed Gallia!' and 'Crimea deserves this!' and... other bad things."

"I understand." Lethe was a woman who spoke her mind, Elincia knew, especially when she was angry. "I don't agree with her, as you can imagine, but I see where she's coming from. I only hope she wasn't mad at you for helping us."

"That is not important," Mordecai said curtly, indicating that Lethe had, in fact, been _very _mad at him. "We are here. We want to help you."

_I hope he and his friends won't become outcasts in Gallia for helping me. But if they do, I'll offer them to stay in Crimea. That's the least I can do in return for their loyalty._

Generous gestures of gratitude, however, would have to wait until later, and so Elincia forced herself to think in purely strategical terms now. Three hundred beast laguz were a force to be reckoned with, each of them easily worth three average beorc soldiers. Then again, the place where they were most needed was not under attack by beorc...

"The ravens of Kilvas are pillaging the lands to the east," Elincia told Mordecai. "I have no spare troops to drive them off, and they are causing terrible damage. Would you be willing to go and fight them?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in Mordecai's voice. "Most Gallians don't like the raven tribe," he explained. "They fight only for money. They cannot be trusted."

_Whatever Naesala is fighting for this time, it's not money_, Elincia thought, recalling the unsuccessful attempts to buy the Raven King off. _But he could just be currying favor with the Empire. That's almost the same thing._ Out loud, she said: "Then it is agreed. You will travel east as soon as you can and engage the ravens."

"Laguz are better for fighting laguz than beorc," Mordecai agreed. "But we are not as fast as the ravens. If they fly away, we cannot catch them."

"But if they fly away then they're also not doing any damage," Elincia pointed out. "As long as you chase them around and keep them from plundering, that would be a success."

"We can do that." Mordecai spoke with the solemn honesty of a man who never promised more than he could keep. "We will keep them very busy."

"That's more than I would have prayed for ten minutes ago." Elincia extended her arms and put her hands into Mordecai's. "Thank you again."

"Gallia and Crimea must defend each other," Mordecai said and squeezed her hands, careful not to crush them. "I must go now." With that, he let go of her hands and turned to leave.

"Good luck," Elincia called after the departing tiger laguz as he vanished behind the door. An instant later, the sound of two people bumping into each other and one of them falling to the ground with a painful cry reached her ears.

"Careful, little beorc," she heard Mordecai say. "Have I hurt you?"

"N-no... ouch," Count Silok's voice came from beyond the door. "I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going. It is my fault."

"You lost your eye glass." There was a sound of something being picked from the floor. "It is not broken."

"T-thank you v-very much," Silok stuttered. "I... I must go to the queen, so, uh... farewell, dear laguz sir."

"Yes, farewell," Mordecai replied, and Elincia could hear him walk away. A moment later, Silok entered the throne room, furiously polishing his monocle as he walked (perhaps with good reason for once, since it had fallen to the ground). He was still wearing the same orange robe as during his appointment ceremony, and Elincia only now realized that she had neither seen him nor thought of him in the three days since then.

_He couldn't have..._

"Your Highness!" As soon as he saw her, Silok was seized with great excitement, almost tripping over his robe as he hurried toward her. "Your Highness, I've got it!" he exclaimed proudly – and loudly.

"Stop yelling," Elincia said gruffly and extended her arm to stop the young count from crashing into her. She usually liked Silok, but right now, he was making far too much noise for her liking. "This damn war is giving me enough of a headache already."

"War?" Silok was looking at this queen as if she had just asked him to fly. "What war?"

"This isn't funny in the least," Elincia growled. "What do you want?"

"Forgive me if I've angered you, Your Majesty!" Silok took a step back and fell to one knee. "But I don't know what you're talking about! I... I spent the last three days in the library!"

"You... spent," Elincia said stupidly. "The last... three... days. In the library." She raised her eyebrows and stared at Silok who squirmed under her gaze. "And you didn't notice that we are at war?"

"Nobody told me," the young man said in his defense. That was too much for Elincia, and she burst out in laughter.

"Goddess, Silok, if anybody else had told me this, I'd be convinced that they're trying to be funny, and failing miserably. But with you..." She shook her head and wiped a tear out of her right eye. "Does the library see so few visitors?"

"Actually, it does," Silok replied, his expression reserved, his tone cautious. "But to tell you the truth, I prefer it that way. I don't enjoy large crowds, and–" Elincia raised her hand, cutting him off. "I see," she said simply. "I see."

For a moment, Silok's obliviousness made her doubt his qualifications for a position of responsibility. Then again, he had locked himself in the library for three days straight, presumably eating nothing and drinking little, for the sole purpose of investigating something that might help his queen. That kind of devotion, though slightly embarrassing on a personal level, was something she could appreciate.

"Let me tell you the bad news, then," Elincia said to Silok. "Oh, and rise, for Ashera's sake!" Silok heeded her command, drawing himself up to his not very imposing height, almost a full head shorter than his queen. "Begnion has declared war on Crimea," Elincia told him. "And somehow, they have enlisted the aid of both Kilvas and Daein."

"So that vile Lekain made good on his threat?" Silok asked, his expression one of righteous anger. "How dare he! Crimea has done nothing wrong! And Daein! Those... those treacherous dogs! They... they..." He broke off and stared into space, no doubt reliving the horrors of the first Daein invasion in his mind.

"The situation is dire, but not hopeless," Elincia said, hoping to make Silok snap out of it. "We are not without allies, and–"

"But this doesn't make sense," Silok interrupted her. "Daein and Begnion just fought a war! How did they agree to an alliance so quickly?"

"That is one of the key questions of this conflict. If we can answer it, we might be able to sever the pact between–"

"Of course!" Silok suddenly clenched his fists and stared at Elincia with his eyes almost glowing. "That's it! It does make sense after all! Perfect sense, in fact!"

"Indeed?" Elincia asked with unconcealed doubt. "Enlighten me, please."

"Don't you see?" Silok looked as if he was about to seize her shoulders and shake her – something Elincia would not have tolerated on principle alone. "They have a blood pact!"

"A blood... pact? What's that supposed to be?" She thought back to the last time the word 'blood' had come up in recent days, and a particular memory surfaced in her mind. "You mean it has something to do with–"

"Ahem," Silok interrupted Elincia for the third time (it kind of irritated her that she was keeping count). "Please forgive for not making myself clear sooner, Your Majesty. I should begin from... the beginning."

"Sounds good," Elincia smirked. "Go ahead." But in her mind, she could already guess that this 'blood pact' had something to do with Lekain's strange demand three days ago – after all, it had been these events that had prompted Silok's research in the first place.

"According to a book I've skimmed several years ago, and that I only managed to find again after three days of searching, some fifty years ago the magical researchers of the Begnion Empire came up with an ingenious method to compel other nations to do their bidding. They called it a 'blood pact'." Silok became visibly excited as he spoke, but managed to keep his voice slow and comprehensible. "If a treaty is written on a special kind of enchanted paper, and the obligated party signs it with their blood, they can never violate the terms of the treaty again." He took a deep breath. "If they do, the other party can use the power of the pact to kill as many citizens of the disobedient nation as they want to."

"What?" Although she knew Silok to be very intelligent, Elincia could not believe his words. "That's insane! No magic is that powerful. You can't just kill people on the other side of the continent with a piece of paper."

"The author of the book disagrees," Silok said firmly. "He does not give his name, but judging from his writing style, he hailed from Begnion, and was probably a deserter who sold the secret of the pact to other nations." The young count frowned. "Unfortunately, nobody in Crimea seemed to have believed him, or else his book would not have vanished in the farthest corner of the library." He directed a critical stare at Elincia. "I suppose they did not believe it because they did not want to believe it. A very dangerous attitude."

"You have a point," Elincia admitted. "And it perfectly explains what happened three days ago. Lekain wanted to trick me into signing one of those blood pacts."

"That would be the obvious conclusion," Silok said, "but we're getting ahead of ourselves. According to the book," he continued, "the Apostle at that time was appalled by the idea of ever using blood pacts, and forbade her researchers to create them at the pains of death. I believe the author of the book fled the country because of that ban – because he did not want the result of that research to be lost."

"Then why didn't he just prove that the blood pacts worked?" Elincia asked. "And why did the knowledge still survive in Begnion?"

"The book leaves a great many questions unanswered," Silok shrugged. "It's always that way with history. At any rate, if the author was old enough to be a knowledgeable researcher fifty years ago, then he is most likely dead by now. Perhaps he tried his luck in Daein, too, only to be ridiculed there as well. As for Begnion, it seems the ban died with the Apostle who had decreed it, or perhaps the Senate simply became powerful enough to ignore it. And considering that the current Apostle is still a child..."

"Sanaki might not even know about these blood pacts, since her grandmother was murdered, probably without a chance to pass the knowledge to her successor." Elincia had to admit that it all seemed to fit together rather neatly. "And if Daein signed such a pact with Begnion... and Kilvas, too... that would explain why they follow the Empire's lead. Someone like Lekain would not hesitate to wipe out half a nation as long as doing so would ensure the obedience of the surviving half."

"All right," Elincia said and clapped her hands together. "Let's assume that these two pacts exist, and that they are compelling both Daein and Kilvas to obey Lekain's every whim. Let's not dwell upon the circumstances under which they were signed... it would take a very foolish or very desperate king to do so. The important question is: Can the pacts be broken?" She directed the question at Silok, seeing as he was the 'expert'. "Does the book say anything about that?"

"It does," Silok said eagerly. "It will take the destruction of the physical document as well as the death of one of the signers... or both, of course, but only one is necessary, it says."

"Lekain had already signed the pact that would have enslaved Crimea," Elincia said. "If not for my refusal..." She suddenly felt very relieved about not signing it. Her nation of Crimea bound to the will of the Empire forever – what a nightmare! War, even though it was terrible, was preferable to such slavery. _I made the correct choice after all. I really should stop being so overly critical of myself..._ She shook her head, afraid that her exuberant self-criticism might just as easily become exuberant self-praise.

"Lekain had signed the pact intended for Crimea," Elincia repeated, "so he probably also signed the the ones with Daein and Kilvas. So if we kill him and destroy the documents, both Daein and Kilvas should be happy to go home."

"But how should we do that?" Silok asked. "Even if we assume that he's carrying the documents on himself, he's still the Vice-Minister of Begnion, sitting at the heart of the Empire! How are we supposed to get there?"

"We?" Elincia smirked. "Why, Silok, are you volunteering for a suicide mission?"

"What?" Silok made an involuntary step back. "I... was speaking of 'we' in the figurative sense," he babbled. "I mean... of course I would die for Your Majesty, but..." He raised his lanky arms into the air. "I'm no fighter!"

"Relax, I was just teasing you."

"Oh. How very mean."

"You have no idea how mean I can be to those who deserve it," Elincia growled. "Rest assured, Vice-Minister Lekain is a dead man." Silok stared at his queen with both awe and fear, though thankfully enough awe seemed to be prevailing. Having a rather critical mind, he was probably wondering how she was going to go about killing Lekain, and Elincia already had an excellent idea...

_Stop. I mustn't rush things. I must think about the consequences first, or I'll make the situation worse once again!_

"The Senate will not take the death of their leader lying down," Elincia said, more to herself than to Silok, who was listening raptly. "They will be dead set on retribution against Crimea and try to overwhelm our southern defenses by sheer weight of numbers. Geoffrey said they would lose half their army if they tried that, but if the Senators are burning with anger over losing their leader along with their leverage over their press-ganged allies, they may be willing to pay that price. And if they break through, Crimea will be finished."

"That's quite a predicament," Silok said. "And I'm afraid I don't have any ideas how to solve it."

"But I might just have one," Elincia said, struck by a sudden inspiration. It was a rather unpleasant idea, even by her recently lowered standards, but the danger for Crimea was too grave for her to be squeamish now. "However, it depends on how exactly the blood pacts work. Tell me, Silok... according to the book, what would happen if..."

Elincia asked her question, and Silok replied. She bade him fetch the book from the library to confirm his answer, just to be absolutely sure. He did as his queen had asked, and when the written words of the long-dead Begnion researcher confirmed her ideas about how the blood pacts worked, she finally nodded and decided on a course of action. Silok raised moral objections against her plan, but once she had made it clear to him just how precarious Crimea's current situation was, he retracted them.

"It need not be forever," Elincia told him to assuage his worries, though she was not willing to make it a promise. "But for the moment, that's what we'll do."

"I understand, Your Majesty." Silok had said his piece and had been convinced that Elincia's view was right, and was supporting her wholeheartedly now. "Is there anything else you want me to do?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," Elincia replied. "Leave the palace, go into the city, visit the first inn you come across and tell the barkeeper that the queen is in need of a fireman."


	22. Night of the Assassin

**Chapter 22: Night of the Assassin**

When Volke appeared in the Senate building in Sienne in the middle of the night, he barely even felt the disorienting and weakening effects of the warp powder. He had been using it regularly for almost a decade now, and had long since overcome its crippling side effects. He only felt a very feint dizziness, and his reactions would be a bit sluggish for a few seconds.

Unfortunately, the first few seconds after a successful warp were also the most critical: Although Volke knew within an inch on which spot he would materialize – he never warped into a building without getting his hands on the floor plans first – there was never a guarantee that the room he had chosen was empty. If somebody saw him appear out of thin air, he had to decide instantaneously whether he should try to take them out silently or withdraw – he tried to avoid the latter, since that would mean that the target was now alerted, and any repeat attempts made much more difficult. And although Volke prided himself in his ability to overcome any difficulty, he was not fool enough to create new ones for himself if he could help it.

However, the question of fight or flight did not pose itself this time, for the small, windowless room in which Volke had materialized was pitch dark and clearly empty. Judging by the floor plans, it was a work room for a senatorial clerk, since it was directly adjacent to one of the larger senatorial offices, but there was also a second door opening directly to a corridor. Volke produced a small, blue stone from his pocket, and the room was cast in a weak azure light, confirming that the room was in fact empty. The stone was a magical item, and its light could only be seen by the one who held it and no one else, not even if they were standing directly in front of it.

Volke had a large arsenal of such magical items for various purposes – the warp powder and this moonstone being the most universally useful ones – and took advantage them wherever his natural strength and agility were not enough to do the job. He knew that some assassins considered this a sort of cheating, but he suspected that it was merely envy talking; besides, those type of 'honorable' assassins usually had short and unimpressive careers. Volke knew nothing of honor, or fair play, or any such ridiculous, self-defeating concepts: If he was doing a job, he was going to do it with as little risk to himself as he could. His profession was dangerous enough already – the best thing a captured assassin could hope for was a quick execution without hours of torture – and even for an experienced professional, a single slip-up could spell doom.

Everything in this world came at a price, though, and not in the moral sense that people often used the proverb, but in a very real, material sense: Devoid of even the slightest bit of magical talent, Volke had to procure all of his magic items, most of them from corrupt Begnion researchers. Unfortunately, every one of those items, even the sturdy-looking moonstone, had limited uses, and so he had to replace them regularly – and the prices, not to mention the bribes, kept rising. It was one of the reasons that Volke's services were so expensive, though not the most important one. That would be...

_No distractions! What am I, a bloody beginner? I'm here to do a job!_

And what a job it was. When the Queen of Crimea had told him a month ago that she might employ him again in the future, he had not expected her to contact him so soon – and for his biggest job ever, no less! He had killed many a noble before, usually on the behest of another, envious or competing noble (common folk could not afford Volke's rates, and usually had more pressing problems than sicking hired killers on each other). But this night's target was by far the most prestigious one in his career: Vice-Minister Lekain, leader of the Imperial Senate and currently the most powerful man in Begnion, if not all of Tellius.

_I knew that queen had far-reaching ambitions, but she managed to surprise even me. _Of course, as long as her ambitions translated into money for Volke, he was happy to be of service to her. And she had promised him lots of money indeed...

_Two! Million! Gold!_

Even Volke found himself in awe at that pricetag. It dwarfed every sum he had every been paid, and it was also the first time in his career that somebody had offered him more than he had demanded. _Lekain must have done _something_ to make that woman angry._

Chiding himself a second time for his distracting thoughts (but who would not be distracted by the thought of Two! Million! Gold!), Volke finally decided to get a move on, seeing as every minute he spent in hostile territory increased the risk of discovery. Recalling the floor plans, he opened the door leading into the corridor half an inch wide and listened for any noise whatsoever. After a minute or so, he decided that there was nobody beyond the door, and quickly slipped through, closing it silently behind him (even a little thing like a door standing ajar could lead to alarms being raised if a patrol found them). Two quick glances up and down the corridor confirmed his assessment: Volke was alone.

_The guards are bound to stand watch at the doors and on the roof of the building, but nightly patrols indoors are probably deemed unnecessary, seeing as we are at the very heart of the Empire._ There was a certain irony to the fact that warp powder of Begnion manufacture had allowed him to enter undetected, and Volke appreciated irony.

_Lekain's office is bound to be the large one at the center of the building,_ Volke thought, seeing the floor plans before his mind's eye as clearly as though he was looking at the actual documents. He had planned his route out beforehand, but he also had to be ready to improvise should he encounter unexpected difficulties. _It should take me just a minute to get there._

And so the lithe, dark shadow that was Volke sneaked through the corridors of the Senate building, encountering no one, making no sound, breathing into the piece of cloth that covered most of his face. He had put away the moonstone and was now relying on the light of the actual moon coming through the corridor windows: Not only because the stone's energy could be quickly depleted through extensive use, but also because it gave a false impression of the actual lighting conditions, which could easily lead to a fatal mistake. For instance, had he still been using the stone, Volke would have noticed the light flickering beyond the next corner a few moments later, with quite possibly dire consequences.

Volke pressed himself flat against a part of the wall not illuminated by the pale light of the moon, his right hand hovering over his knife (or rather, one of the many knives he carried at all times), his left ready to pull out the warp powder in case he had to make a quick exit. A few seconds of tense observation later, however, he realized that the light was coming from a stationary source, seeing as it did not move at all. He slowly moved toward the corner and peeked around it.

He was looking down a short hallway perpendicular to the one he was standing in, connecting to a parallel corridor at its far end. There was a single, wide door leading out of the hallway – the door to the large office that was Volke's destination – and it was guarded by two armored sentinels wielding large, ornate halberds. The light he had seen was coming from several oil lamps hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the hallway and making a stealthy approach completely impossible. Brute force was not recommended, either: Although Volke could be a lethal fighter if the need arose and judged himself quite capable of dispatching the two guards with reasonable speed, the noise of combat would attract far too much unwanted attention, endangering the success of his mission. Failed or aborted jobs were not entirely foreign even to Volke, and though he, too, made mistakes, he never made stupid ones.

_First of all, I should find out whether Lekain is even in there_, he thought calmly. The Vice-Minister was important enough that his office would be guarded at all times, whether he was inside or not. And Volke would rather not expend the effort required to bypass the guards only to find himself in an empty room.

The assassin's deliberations were interrupted when two figures entered the hallway from the direction opposite to his, drawing the attention of the guards. "It's me," the taller of the two said, "the Vice-Minister's assistant." He was a thin, middle-aged man with a nondescript face, carrying a small lantern in his right hand, his left clapsed firmly around the much smaller hand of his companion. "I brought the Apostle as requested."

_That's the Apostle?_ Volke thought as he looked at the small, shy girl whose face was downcast and whose entire posture was one of fearful obedience. She was too far away for him to make out details, but she seemed to be wearing dirty, torn rags rather than whatever exquisite clothing an Apostle should be wearing. And why was she not holding her head high, proudly looking down upon all others as she had done three years ago when Volke had seen her for the first and only time while working for the son of Greil?

_Something is fishy here... but this may be my opportunity._

"We will inform his excellency," one of the guards said while his comrade knocked at the door and stuck his head inside, informing the occupant of the office of the arrivals. There was a short reply by an imperious voice and the guard withdrew his head, nodding at his comrade. "You may enter," he said, and Lekain's assistant walked toward the door, pulling the timid Apostle behind him. Within a split second, Volke weighed his options and the risks associated with them: If he stayed right where he was while he waited for Lekain to leave his office, he might well be waiting for hours – the Vice-Minister was clearly an industrious man, still working in the middle of the night, and might not go to bed at all before the treacherous sunlight made Volke's position untenable. On the other hand, slipping through the door behind the two visitors was a risky undertaking in its own right... but Volke had the means, and the experience, and so he decided to go for it.

_Time to become invisible_, he thought and pulled his black hood over his head. It was one of the few magical items in his possession that he had not bought from Begnion researchers, but taken from the dead body of an old mage more than a decade ago. It did not truly make him invisible – that was impossible, as far as he knew – but it turned people's attention away from the wearer, making him appear as little more than a shade in the corners of their eyes. He had no idea how it worked, but he knew _that_ it worked, having used it many times before to great effect.

Volke ran into the corridor toward the guards, skillfully slipping past them (bumping into them would have given him away, magic hood or not) and into the office before they closed the door again. Wriggling around the two arrivals, he quickly gained some distance from them and overlooked the room for a place to hide. He needed one because the hood was subject to a number of limitations: No only could it not be used together with warp powder, it could also not be used for longer than fifteen or twenty seconds without incurring an agonizing headache. At one time, Volke had held out for thirty seconds and very nearly blacked out from the pain, making half a minute his personal upper limit. And since he was under instructions not to kill Lekain just yet, he had to hide until the visitors were gone again.

The office was every bit as large as it appeared on the floor plans; it seemed even larger than the throne room of the Queen of Crimea. However, unlike that room which was mostly empty, Lekain's office was filled with a number of large objects, including expensive pieces of furniture as well as works of art. A large marble desk was standing at the center of the room, and seated behind it was Lekain himself, a sun around which all the other objects had been arranged like planets. It was perfect for Volke's purposes, and he made a quick dash toward a large statue depicting a triumphant warrior, covering behind its wide rectangular plinth. Just as he was feeling the first onset of pain at the back of his head, he pulled back his hood and eavesdropped on the unfolding conversation in utter silence.

"My apologies for disturbing you at this late hour, Your Excellency. You wanted me to see you as soon as I had a suitable candidate."

"I was awake and working anyway," Lekain answered generously and yawned. "It's been a long time since I last had a full night's sleep. A mountain of responsibilities rests on my shoulders."

"Few men could carry such a load without collapsing," the assistant said in a servile tone that amused Volke. "The Empire is very lucky to have you."

"Oh, stop flattering me," Lekain said and rose from his chair. "Now, let's inspect your catch." He walked around his desk and lowered himself to his knees before the nervous little girl; not out of reverence, but rather so he could look at her more closely. Her gaze was still downcast, so he grabbed her chin and forced her head upward in order to see her face. The child looked like she wanted to run away, but Lekain's assistant was still holding her hand tightly.

_And where could she run to anyway..._

"Why, what a marvelous pick," Lekain said after critically inspecting the girl for a while. "The resemblance is astonishing."

"Thank you, Vice-Minister," the assistant replied, bowing deeply to properly express his gratitude. "It took me weeks of scouring the orphanages until I found her," he added, so his superior would know just how difficult and arduous his task had been. Lekain, however, had already returned his attention to the black-haired girl.

"Hello, little thing," he said, as if he had only seen her just now. "Would you mind telling me your name?"

"I... I'm Juli," the girl said with a hushed voice.

"Juli, is it?" Lekain nodded as if in contemplation. "That's a very nice name." With a speed that surprised even Volke, he raised his hand and slapped the girl hard across the face. "Very nice," he said, his tone completely even, as if his hand had acted on its own. "But from now on, your name is Sanaki. Do you understand?"

"Y... yes," the girl said immediately "My name is... Sanaki." She seemed to be too afraid to even cry.

"What a nice, obedient girl," Lekain spoke to his assistant while rising to his feet. "I already like her much better than the old Sanaki. Speaking of which..."

"Her remains have been cremated," the assistant replied, but not before taking an anxious glance at the door. "There were no witnesses."

"Good riddance to that brat," Lekain said contemptuously. "What about the Holy Guard?"

"Both Commander Sigrun and Vice Commander Tanith are in our custody. There are few others who were close enough to the Apostle to tell the difference, but they will not dare to say a word."

"Excellent." Lekain seated himself at his desk again. "Have those two silently done away with. And come up with a good explanation for their disappearance."

"As you command." The assistant bowed, please to have been praised again and entrusted with further important tasks. The little girl was staring at the floor once more, her cheek still red from Lekain's slap, her long, pitch black hair drooping off her shoulders, in dire need of being washed. She was quite a pitiful sight... at least by the standards of normal people. Volke, on the other hand, could not afford to pity anybody... unless perhaps he was paid to do so.

"I'll soon pay another visit to good Sephiran in his cell," Lekain announced. "His distasteful emotional fixation on the old Sanaki made him needlessly recalcitrant. Now that she is gone, he should prove more cooperative."

"But... isn't the opposite more likely?" the assistant asked his master. "I fear he will be furious and refuse to work with us again."

"I suppose that's a possibility," Lekain admitted dourly. "In that case, he will be done away with."

"Perhaps that would be best," the assistant said, and added eagerly: "Then you could become the new Prime Minister!" But Lekain was not pleased by the idea.

"What an imbecilic suggestion," he said sharply, and his assistant seemed to physically shrink in reaction. "The Prime Minister's job consists of baby-sitting the Apostle and waving to the masses from a balcony. As the head of the Senate, my time is much too valuable for such nonsense! Like a captain guiding his ship through a fierce tempest, so must I lead the Empire through these troubled times." He waved his hand dismissively. "Now take the Apostle to her quarters... and make sure she's properly clothed for her position."

"Yes, your excellency," the assistant said, and seemed suddenly very eager to leave before he could make another disagreeable suggestion. "Come along, Sanaki," he said and pulled at the girl's arm. She, too, was happy to get away from the man who had struck her. Well, maybe not exactly happy, Volke thought, but slightly less miserable.

"Do not to address her so casually in front of others!" Lekain called after his assistant on his way to the door. "Appearances must be maintained!"

"My apologies," the man muttered, and Volke saw beads of sweat run down his forehead. "Please follow me, Apostle."

"I want to go home," the girl said weakly, but had no choice but to follow him out of the room.

"Home? How precious," Lekain chuckled behind his desk as the door fell shut. "She'll be living the rest of her life in luxury, while I drown myself in work to ensure the prosperity of the Empire." He opened a drawer in his desk, removed a pile of densely-written documents, took the first from the top and began to read in silence.

_There is some serious skullduggery going on here_. That was the conclusion Volke drew from what he had seen._ I wonder if Queen Elincia would be willing to pay for that information..._

However, rather than thinking about the prospects of ancillary income, Volke decided to do the job he had come here to do. Lekain was alone now, and he suspected that nightly visits like the one he had just witnessed were the exception rather than the rule. The time for him to make his move had come.

Casting a suspicious glance at the door to make sure that it was closed shut, Volke removed a small, but heavy blackjack from his jacket. He then debated using the power of the hood to safely approach Lekain, but decided against it: Using it again after such a short time could result in a massive, sudden spike of pain, and Lekain was so absorbed in his reading that it should not even be necessary. After mapping out a route that would use the massive desk as cover, Volke dropped prone to the carpeted floor and crawled silently toward Lekain, who had no idea that death was on its way to meet him. Approaching the Vice-Minister's chair at an angle from behind, Volke rose to his feet, raised the blackjack and brought it down on the back of Lekain's head with well-measured force. The Vice-Minister's body went limp on the spot, and Volke caught him by the back of his collar so his head would not strike the marble, possibly resulting in a cracked skull. Instead, he pulled Lekain's body back and let it sink into the cushioned backrest of his chair, making it almost seem as if the hard-working Vice-Minister had fallen asleep at his desk.

Other than the unavoidable, dull blow of the blackjack against Lekain's head, Volke had not made a single noise.

_So far, so good_, Volke thought and assured himself that his victim was still breathing. "Knock him out and search him first," the Queen of Crimea had told him. "Only kill him if you find the documents I described, be it on his body or somewhere in his office. If you don't find them anywhere, leave him alive."

"No problem," he had replied, used to looting the bodies of his victims for some valuable item his employer desired. Although the condition of only killing Lekain if he found those documents had appeared rather strange to Volke. "I'll receive full pay no matter the outcome," he had insisted, and Elincia had agreed.

A thorough search of Lekain's unconscious body did not turn up any documents, but Volke found a very small, finely-wrought silver key. It did not take him long to find the lock that key belonged to: Lekain's large desks had two columns of five drawers each, but only one of those could be locked. Volke opened that drawer and allowed himself a satisfied nod when he found a small pile of papers inside: The red signature on the topmost document immediately caught his eye.

_A treaty between Begnion and Kilvas, signed in blood. Check._ He looked at the second document in the pile. _Begnion and Daein, signed in blood. Check. _Then the third: _Begnion and Crimea, unsigned. Check._

There were three more pieces of paper at the bottom of the pile, all of them blank, with a hand-written note attached to each of them: _Enchanted and ready to be used._

_Isn't that nice_, Volke thought, rolled the six pieces of paper together and placed them in a metal tube given to him by Elincia for that very purpose. _Those blank pages will net me a hefty bonus._

Volke had what he had come for, and so there was only one thing left to do before leaving: After fastening the tube securely on his belt, he drew one of his numerous daggers and approached the unconscious Lekain. With the confident routine of a man who had long since stopped counting his victims, Volke placed the dagger against Lekain's chest and plunged it into his heart. His body trembled only slightly, and a thin stream of blood ran out of his mouth. The most powerful man on Tellius was dead, and all his plans and schemes and ambitions had died with him.

_Rich or poor, powerful or weak, they must all die_. It was the closest thing to a personal philosophy Volke had. _Now, for the last part..._

The assassin wiped the bloody dagger clean on Lekain's white robe, put it back into its sheath and produced a longer, saw-like knife. He grabbed Lekain's body and dragged it out of the chair down to the floor, where it would be easier to work, and began sawing off his head. It was a messy affair, and the part of his work that Volke enjoyed least – no matter how often he did it, he still got blood and gore all over his clothes. But proof of success was a necessity in his trade, since only a simpleton would trust the word of a man who killed others for gold.

_There, all done_, Volke thought once he had severed Lekain's head from his shoulders, placed it in a brown sack and thrown the sack over his shoulders. _Time to leave._ He peered at the large door at the far end off the room and thought briefly of the two unsuspecting guards beyond. Come next morning, those two would find themselves in quite a pickle. In fact, they would certainly be accused of letting Lekain's murderer into his office, and most likely executed. But that was none of Volke's problems: At that time, he would be at the other end of the continent and two million gold richer.

_But it's still not enough_, he reminded himself as he produced a satchel of warp powder from a pocket. _Not nearly enough._

That knowledge served to curb any unwarranted elation the master assassin might have felt as he vanished from the room, leaving no proof that he had ever been in there other than a plundered drawer and a headless corpse.


	23. Carcass Gorge, Part I

**Chapter 23: Carcass Gorge, Part I**

For all their famed combat prowess and fearlessness, the Greil Mercenaries certainly liked to oversleep, Soren observed not for the first time. Unlike Ike, however, who at least woke up the instant someone called his name, most of the others were not so easily roused. Soren was usually ready to overlook their sloth, but not today, for time was short: They had a battle to fight soon, and without a thorough briefing on the battle plan he had devised during the night, all the strength and bravery in the world would not be enough to win the day.

It was for this reason that Soren had decided to take extreme measures today. After hearing "just ten more minutes" more often than he would have cared for, he returned to his tent, slightly disgusted with his comrades' laziness. It was a small tent which he shared with no one, quite possibly because no member of the company liked him enough, but the arrangement suited him just fine.

_This should get their attention_, he thought with an evil smile as he retrieved a half-used thunder tome.

There was a strict rule in place among the Greil Mercenaries not to use the weapons and tomes paid for by the company for anything other than fighting or training. However, seeing as he had been the one to make that rule, Soren decided that it was within his authority to allow himself an exception. He stepped outside his tent, shielded his eyes against the sun that was just climbing above the mountainous peaks of the Marhaut range, and began what he had just dubbed 'Operation Rise and Shine': With the accustomed ease of an experienced adept, he unleashed a thunderbolt upon last night's burnt-out camp fire, spreading clouds of ash into all directions, and, more importantly, making a very loud noise.

Under battle conditions, most of the mercenaries might not even have heard the sound of striking thunder, too focused on their respective enemy to register anything more than 'good, it didn't hit me'. But to the slothful mercenaries browsing happily on sleep's green pastures, it was more than enough to shock them into a state of alert. However, it still took more than ten seconds after the initial noise for the first confused head to peer out of a tent, which prompted Soren to unleash a second, louder thunderbolt. He was doing this strictly for professional reasons, of course, and did not at all enjoy the sight of half-clothed and mostly unarmed mercenaries streaming out of their tents, trying to find out what was going on outside.

"We're under attack!"

"Is it Daein?"

"Oh darn, I just met my archrival in my dream!"

"I can't fight before breakfast..."

_What a sorry bunch_, Soren thought as he watched his comrades run around like hapless chickens._ It's a miracle Ike and I manage to keep them in fighting shape._

"What's the meaning of this, Soren?" a stern female voice asked. It belonged to Titania, the company's long-time deputy commander (which in Soren's mind still placed her lower than himself in the company's hierarchy, though he did not say that out loud). A little sharper than the others, she had drawn the obvious conclusion from the thunder tome in Soren's hands and seemed none too happy about it. "Is this your idea of a practical joke?"

"And a good morning to you, Titania," Soren said with an overly formal tone that belied the friendliness of his greeting. "As for your question, I'd rather call it my idea of an effective waking method."

"You are insufferable," Titania sighed. "Just for the record, I was already awake and trying to do my hair..." She pointed at the long, unbraided red hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. "Thanks to you, I have to start all over again!"

"A haircut would save you lots of time every morning," Soren suggested. "I think Mia's hairstyle would look good on you."

"I have no idea whether you're even serious about this..."

"Soren! Titania! What's going on?" During their conversation (well, not much of a conversation, not even by Soren's standards), Ike had appeared besides his two officers, fully clothed and his sword in hand. "A sneak attack?"

"Soren decided we were too slow getting up," Titania replied before Soren could say anything, earning her a critical stare which she happily ignored. "I let you discipline him while I'm doing my hair," she added and walked away.

_I very much doubt Ike would discipline _me _of all people,_ Soren thought. _He knows how valuable I am for the company, and that I only have their best interests in mind, even if they cannot seem to appreciate that. _"Good morning, Ike", he said out loud, with a very subtle undertone of cordiality that had been lacking in his greeting to Titania. "As you can see, I managed to get them out of their tents. I'll leave it to you to bring some order to this chaos."

"You got me out of my tent as well," Ike grumbled, but there was no sting to his complaint. Soren listened very closely to everything Ike said – much more closely than anybody else – and he could tell precisely when he was angry. Now was not one of those times.

_It looks like he won' t discipline me after all, Titania. A pity, hm?_

"All right, mercenaries, listen up!" Ike shouted, his voice effortlessly carrying across the camp. "We are not under attack, but we have a hard battle ahead of us today. Take a speedy breakfast and get suited up for combat in twenty minutes. Once they're ready, the senior members will meet outside my tent for a tactical briefing." He looked at Soren, who was very pleased with the way Ike was handling his men. "That fast enough for you?"

"It's not about me," Soren said. "It's about Daein. According to our scouts, they will reach the battlefield that I have chosen in about two hours. By that time, everybody needs to know their position and what they have to do."

"You picked a battlefield and made a battle plan over night?" Ike asked. "Are you sure you slept enough?" The genuine concern in his voice made Soren feel appreciated. "I took several short naps," he replied. "That should be enough."

"If you say so," Ike shrugged – Soren's assurances were _always_ good enough for him. "Well, I'll find Mist and badger her for breakfast. Want to come along?"

"No, thank you," Soren said quickly. "I've eaten already." That was actually the truth, although he would not have hesitated to lie in order to dodge a shared meal with the rest of the company.

"If you say so," Ike said again and walked off, and Soren sighed, happy to have avoided the same-old lecture about him being too anti-social. It was _because_ he was anti-social, because he did not waste time on needless things, that he got all his work done on time! And social interactions were overrated anyway. As long as he could talk openly with Ike, that was enough for him, and he was not feeling lonely at all when he spent the next twenty minutes alone in his tent, going over the battle plan in his mind once more time, to make sure that it was up to his high standards.

Twenty minutes later, Soren left his tent, taking a moment to inspect the mercenaries preparing for battle all around him. Many of them were not ready yet, especially the armored knights who always took their sweet time getting into their suits – one might think that they would simply _rise earlier_, knowing full well that they needed more time than the others, but no such luck. With a despondent sigh, Soren made his way to Ike's tent, where the senior members of the company had assembled. He was greeted with a barrage of complaints about his unorthodox waking methods, ranging from the mildly annoyed (Oscar) to the full-blown angry (Shinon), but Soren shrugged them off without comment. He did not need them to like him, merely to do as he told them. Or rather, as Ike told them, but since Ike usually followed his strategical advice, it amounted to the same thing.

Preferring to explain his battle strategy at the actual site where combat would take place, Soren led the grumbling mercenaries out of camp and due east, toward the Marhaut Range. On the way there, he explained to them where they were going, and why he chosen that particular place for battle.

"As we expected, Daein's army has chosen not to lay siege to Delbray Castle, but rather to continue on their march west. It is obvious enough that their target is the capital, and in order to get there, they have to choose one out of three possible routes."

"You've obviously decided already which one they're going to take, so why not just spit it out?" Shinon demanded.

"Because we still have a few minutes to walk, and because I like to hear myself talk," Soren said with a smile. "You got that right," Shinon muttered, and whispered something to Gatrie, who was walking next to him. Both of them laughed – _at_ Soren, not _with_ him, as he knew quite well – but he had long since learned to ignore everything Shinon did or said outside of combat.

"The safest path would lead Daein around the mountains and through Felirae. However, it is also the longest route, and since they are clearly in a hurry, they are unlikely to take it." Their group of about a dozen core members reached the foot of a steep incline, and Soren motioned them to follow him uphill as he continued.

"The second route is familiar to all of you: It is the mountain pass across the Marhaut range that we took three years ago on our way to Crimea."

"Oh, yes, I remember," Mia shuddered. "That was when we had to dodge all those boulders. It was horrible!"

"Indeed," Soren agreed, although he had quite a different view of what constituted 'horrible' than the easily excited swordmaster. "And although I'm sure that all of us would love for Daein to do the dodging this time, a recent landslide has completely blocked the pass."

"Booh," Mia griped. "I wanted to have my revenge!"

"Perhaps next time," Soren said. The group had almost reach the top of the incline, from where they would be able to see the prospective battlefield. He had not planned for this, but his words were nicely timed for a properly dramatic reveal.

"Therefore, Daein is left with only one viable option to reach Melior," Soren concluded as he reached the top of the hill, and extended his arm toward the narrow canyon that lay before them. "Carcass Gorge." Indeed, looking at it in the bright morning light, it seemed every bit as good as choice as yesterday night: The gorge was about two miles long, but only wide enough for perhaps twenty men walking abreast, and the precipices on both sides were almost perpendicular and about thirty feet high. They were overgrown with shrubbery in some parts, but even so they would be impossible to climb for any but the most agile soldier, and only if he stripped himself of his armor first.

"Wow," Ike said, coming up next to his tactician, his amazed tone praise enough for Soren. "It's the perfect place for an ambush."

"Which is why I have chosen it," Soren said with a self-satisfied nod. "Incidentally, that is also why we did not take this route three years ago." He crossed his arms across his chest and smiled. "But it appears that Daein's vaunted Maiden of Dawn lacks the common sense to see an obvious trap for what it is... because the scouts that returned during the night have confirmed that her army has set up camp on the road to the gorge, about two hours away. Assuming that they rise earlier than us, they should be marching toward their doom right about now."

"Aren't you a bit cocky, Soren?" Titania asked behind him. "We have fought her forces before, and she was directing them very well. She must have a reason for her reckless haste, even if we don't know it."

"We have fought her before and _beaten_ her before," Soren corrected Titania without looking at her.

"It was a tactical victory," Titania insisted. "She retreated before we could inflict major casualties."

"We achieved our objective, which was crossing Ribahn River," Soren defended himself. Was Titania trying to belittle his victory over that Branded girl? "As for inflicting major casualties, that's what we'll do today." He pointed at the canyon. "We will trap Daein's forces inside Carcass Gorge and decimate them.. or even wipe them out if necessary."

"Uh... Soren?" Mist's voice sounded slightly nervous, and when Soren turned around to look at her, he saw that she was making a scared face. "Why is this place called Carcass Gorge?" she asked.

"This canyon was once the main route for travelers from Delbray to Melior," Soren replied, happy that his knowledge was in demand. "Peasants and merchants passed through with their wagons to sell their wares in the capital, which naturally attracted bandits to prey upon them. During the previous century, things got so bad that you couldn't pass the gorge without coming across dozens of half-rotten skeletons, courtesy of the bandits who begrudged travelers their lives as well as their property. Hence, Carcass Gorge."

"That's creepy," Mist muttered.

"The bandits were wiped out early in the reign of King Ramon," Soren continued, unfazed by the supposed creepiness of the canyon, "And he did a very thorough job, since no major bandit activity has been reported since then. Carcass Gorge doesn't really deserve its name anymore."

"Hooray for a useless history lesson," Shinon spat. "Now tell us your oh-so-awesome plan!" He looked up at the precipices that framed the narrow road through the gorge. "Although I don't really care about the particulars as long as I get to sit up there and rain death down on the Daein pigs." He turned to Gatrie and whispered: "I can't stand the whelp, but this place is great! It's like a shooting gallery!"

"Such compliments mean twice as much coming from you," Soren said in Shinon's direction, revealing that he had heard every word. "Bah, whatever," was the only reply.

"To be honest, I don't care much for ambushes," Ike said, and for a moment, Soren was concerned that the commander might reject his plan. "But since the enemy outnumbers us, this looks like the only place where we can stop them before they get too close to Melior." He nodded reluctantly. "All right, Soren. Let's hear the details."

"Gladly," the young mage replied. "Listen closely everyone..."

* * *

"I don't like this one bit, Micaiah."

"What do you mean?" The Maiden of Dawn was slow to raise her head, weary from the fighting of the last few days. The question had come from Sothe, who was walking beside her at the center of Daein's army, looking and sounding every bit as tired as Micaiah was. Both of them bore the scars of hastily treated wounds incurred during the invasion of Delbray, and they stank of blood and sweat and iron as the rest of the army did.

_Sothe is worse off than me, though_, Micaiah thought when she looked at him. He was dragging his left leg, but denied it every time someone pointed it out. Half of his face was a mask of dried blood that had poured out of a cut on his forehead, and though Micaiah had offered to wash it off for him, he had declined several times. The fact that he was not even trying anymore to put up a strong facade for her sake told her just how exhausted he was.

_He would not even be here if not for me, _she thought unhappily, but they had had that discussion before, so bringing it up again would be useless. "What exactly is it you don't like?" she asked instead, referring to his question. "That we're fighting a war of aggression on behalf of the Begnion Senate, who would kill us all if we refused? Or that we're about to walk into a trap so obvious even a blind man could see it?" She hated her cold, cynical tone – Sothe did not deserve to be talked to like that. But cynicism was the only remaining safeguard against the despair that was threatening to overwhelm Micaiah. If she allowed the sheer injustice of Daein's fate to get to her even more than it already did, she was bound to collapse on the spot and turn into a sobbing wreck, annihilating what little was left of her army's morale.

"Both, of course," Sothe replied. "But right now, I'm worried about the trap. I mean, just look at that!" He nodded in the direction of the narrow gorge before them. "Crimea's generals would be idiots not to lie in wait for us there."

"I agree," Micaiah said. "But we have no choice. The messenger sent by the Senate demanded that we conquer Melior before tomorrow evening, and there's only one way to do this." She pointed at the narrow gorge. "And that way leads through there."

"But that's insane! Even the Senate must see it. If we are annihilated in there, we won't be of any use to them anymore. What does it matter to them if we take two days longer by going through Felirae? It makes no sense!"

"No, it doesn't," Micaiah agreed again. "But what does it matter? What goes on in the minds of the Senators right now is as unknowable to us as what goes on at the bottom of the ocean." She sneered at her own simile. Waxing poetic at a time like this!

"But if we go through there we will all be killed," Sothe insisted. "The men know it, too. Are you willing to let them all die because Pelleas was stupid enough to sign a document he didn't even read?"

"Blaming Pelleas won't get us out of this mess," Micaiah sighed. "You know that."

"I know, but it makes me feel better."

"I suppose," Micaiah said and would have smiled if she had not been too weary to do so.

"At least wait until Jill and her wyvern riders rejoin us, so they can scout the gorge from above!" Sothe begged.

"We left them behind to secure our rear against the forces holed up in Delbray Castle," Micaiah reminded him. "And I ordered Jill not to stop harassing them until we were well out of their reach."

"And how far would that be?" Sothe asked.

"That's up to her to decide," Micaiah replied. "But even if the wyvern riders were here to scout ahead, they could only confirm what we already know."

"It's no use arguing with you," Sothe sighed. "Fine. I'll follow you into that death trap."

"Will you really?" Micaiah asked sorrowfully.

"I just said it."

"Listen to me, Sothe!" Micaiah seized the arm of her beloved friend and pulled him closer to her even as they walked. She spoke to him in dead earnest, her voice so low that no one around them, not even Nolan and the others, could understand what she was saying. "This is your last chance to save yourself!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He frowned deeply, but her touch soothed his anger. "We're all in this together!" He had said that before, every time Micaiah had begged him to leave this army of the damned – but this time was different! Did he not see it?

"It is better for Daein that every last one of us die here in accordance with the Senate's orders than for us to defy them and die along with the entire population."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sothe asked angrily. "That you'd rather send everybody in this army to be butchered than disobey the Senate?"

"You don't get it, Sothe," Micaiah said and almost burst out into tears. "We are already dead! The only question is whether the rest of Daein dies with us or not." She took a deep breath. "You are right: I will send everybody in this army to be butchered if that's the only way to show the Senate that we were obedient until the end." She gave Sothe a desperately pleading look. "But not you! Do you understand?" Micaiah lowered her voice even more, ashamed of what she was about to say. "I will sacrifice Nolan, Edward, Leonardo... everybody, including myself. But not you! The Senate doesn't know about you, doesn't care about you! They care only that this army goes and dies at the place of their choosing." She gulped, as terrified by the thought of dying as every other living being and unable to hide it. "And so we will go and die," she concluded. "But not you."

"I'm sorry, Micaiah," Sothe replied. "But that's my decision to make." He pressed her arm even tighter against his. "I lost sight of you once before, but that will never happen again."

"Even if that means your death?"

"Yes."

Micaiah nodded tersely. "I could use force, you know," she said as a last resort. "Have you tied up and sent back to Nevassa."

"You could do that," Sothe nodded. "The problem is that I would never forgive you if you did. Would you prefer that I live hating you or that I die..." He hesitated in mid-sentence, looking for an appropriate verb. "...not-hating you?" he finished half-heartedly, looking a bit flustered.

"Oh Sothe," Micaiah sighed, and for a brief moment in time, all her pain and misery disappeared. "You're still such a child," she said, leaned over to him, and pressed her lips against his. He stumbled and almost fell over, but she held on tightly to his arm and did not permit it. She looked into his wide open eyes and saw in them the same expression that she had seen during their first encounter in the slums of Nevassa all those years ago.

_We have no time for such things, _Micaiah knew, but she wanted to stay like this for just a few seconds. Surely, not even fate could be that miserly?

In the end, it was Sothe who broke away from her, slowly and gently. He, too, knew that they would not be afforded more time together. Neither of them spoke a word, since everything that could be said, had been said. Finally, Micaiah broke eye contact with him and turned to face the soldiers who were staring at them.

The rest of the army had come to a halt when she and Sothe had stopped to kiss, though only the ones closest to the center had been able to see them. Nolan was rubbing his beard with a knowing grin, while Edward and Leonardo merely stared at each other, completely dumbfounded. Micaiah, too, found herself grinning, until she looked up and saw that they had come to a stop right in front of the ominous gorge. _This is it_, she thought and her grin froze and vanished. _We can't turn back now._ The gorge was about two miles long and devoid of life, but she knew that there must be ambushers waiting above them.

"This is it," she said hoarsely, and the fear of death once again threatened to overcome her. _If we die here, the Senate won't be able to say we didn't obey them_, she reminded herself. _They'll spare the people of Daein... they have to!_

"Soldiers of Daein!" Micaiah shouted, surprised how firm and clear her voice was. "If we get through this canyon, there'll be nothing between us and Melior except miles of open fields. But there is no doubt that we will be attacked, so I want all of you to be brave and not give in to fear, even if it seems like there is no hope!" It was one thing for her to send these men to their deaths, she found, but quite another to _tell_ them about it. Rather than that, she would lie to them and tell them that there was a real chance for any of them to survive an ambush. It was the only way she could go through with this.

"We will not retreat, and we will not surrender," Micaiah cried. Those had been the orders of the Senate, though that was not something she could say out loud. But the soldiers had enough faith in their Maiden of Dawn to die for her. They had proved that often enough. And they only had to hold on to that faith for a little longer...

"Do not lose heart," Micaiah cried, "no matter what happens! Keep your eyes open, and look out for the man next to you!" She unvoluntarily looked to her right and saw Sothe standing there, smiling grimly. She seized his hand and squeezed it for a second before letting go and readying her most potent magical tome. She would sell his and her lives as dearly as possible.

"We're going in."

* * *

Ike had always disliked ambushes on principle alone, deeming them a coward's way of fighting; an attitude that had been instilled in him by his father. Now that he was actually lying in ambush for the first time in his life, he decided that he also disliked them in practice, not so much for moral considerations, but rather because the long waiting made him antsy. Ike had never been antsy before, and he did not enjoy the experience.

In accordance with Soren's battle plan, Ike and most of the Greil Mercenaries' infantry had hidden themselves in the undergrowth on both sides of the road leading into Carcass Gorge – on the eastern side, from where the Daein army was approaching. Ten minutes ago, that army had moved only a few feet past Ike and his men, very much in a hurry and unattentive to their surroundings. Soren had predicted that they would be moving without due caution because of their victories in Delbray; however, when Ike had watched the black-clad soldiers, they had not looked at all like an army triumphant, but like an army hunted, their speed not owed to fervor, but to fear. Either way, Daein's forces had moved past the ambushers without taking notice of them, heading straight toward Carcass Gorge.

_I think I saw Zihark, and Tauroneo, too. And I'm sure Sothe was near the center, together with their commander – his girlfriend or whatever._

It was a damn shame that his former comrades were fighting for Daein, Ike decided. Certainly, it was their home country, but that was no excuse for participating in a war of aggression. He would have liked to ask them again why they were doing this, seeing as their behavior in the battle at Ribahn River had been very strange and evasive, but popping out of the underbrush and striking up a chat would have gone against the whole idea of an ambush.

_Back then, I had no idea that I would be running into former comrades_, Ike thought, recalling the events of the nightly retreat across Ribahn River. _They were just there, pointing their weapons at me, and I had to deal with it. But now I know beforehand that I'll fight them. Can I still go ahead with this?_

Ike recalled his conversation with Elincia two weeks ago, outside of Melior. She had asked him what he would do if his job forced him to fight his friends, and he had replied that he would only fight them when they were clearly and obviously in the wrong. And Daein _was_ in the wrong, no doubt about it, even more egregiously than during their intervention at Ribahn River. They were basically re-enacting Ashnard's invasion from three years ago, although with a much smaller and less mobile force, and just like Ashnard, they had to be stopped. The logic behind that reasoning was simple and straightforward, just the way Ike liked it, and so he accepted that he would fight against some of his friends today.

_I didn't see the Black Knight among the enemy_, he suddenly realized. _And I doubt I would have overlooked him. So where is he?_

Thinking of the man who had killed his father was pointless at this time, Ike decided and pushed all thoughts of the mysterious, dark-clad swordsman out of his mind. If he showed himself, Ike would face him. If not, he would still defeat the Maiden of Dawn, who seemed to be more influential than even the Black Knight himself – during the battle at Ribahn River, he had clearly answered to her, not the other way round.

_And then there's the new King of Daein, Ashnard's orphan, about whom we know next to nothing. What role does he play in all this? Does he want to avenge his father, or does he have other motives? _

He was thinking too much, Ike decided, brooding over questions that could not be answered right now. It was all because of that stupid ambush – in a normal fight, there would have been no time to drift off in thoughts, because he would already have engaged the enemy.

"It looks like they're about halfway through," Ike said after looking down the road and into the gorge. "Soren's barrage should begin any second now. That's when we run up to them from behind and strike at their exposed backs while they're in a panic."

"That's no way to fight if you ask me," Boyd's voice came from a neighboring bush. "I mean, I see why it's necessary, but still... attacking someone from behind just seems wrong."

"I had a similar thought just now," Ike said. "It's very... dishonorable. It's not what a warrior should do."

"Would you listen to yourselves?" a female voice sounded from the other side of the road. "Boss, Boyd, you two are starting to sound like Skrimir." From the tone of her voice, it was clear that Mia disapproved.

"Why is that so bad?" Ike asked. "He's a nice fellow," Boyd agreed, "if a bit hot-headed."

"More like bone-headed," came Mia's reply. "I mean, he's all like 'Raaawr! Honor!' and 'Roarrr! Cowards!' and stuff. It gets really annoying really fast."

"So you're fine with cutting down people from behind?" Boyd asked. "What if one of them is your archrival? He'd die before you had a chance for a proper duel."

"Oh, Boyd." Mia's sigh was loud enough to be heard from the other side of the road. "You don't know anything, do you? All Daein soldiers wear black armor, but my archrival is clad in white." The was a rustling of branches. "Like Rhys here."

"Don't get started with that again," the cleric's voice came from behind a tree. "I – am – not – your – archrival!"

"I said 'like Rhys', didn't you hear that?" Mia asked in a pouting tone.

"I only heard the word 'archrival', and coming out of your mouth, that word means nothing but trouble."

"You're so boring, Rhys."

"That may well be, but–"

The sound of a thunderbolt striking in the middle of Carcass Gorge put an end to the mercenaries' banter. Ike looked up, and saw several fireballs as well as a barrage of arrows descending on the Daein army from the northern precipice: That was where Soren and Shinon had laid in waiting with their ranged troops, ready to rain death upon the black-armored host as soon as they had reached the middle of the canyon.

"That's our signal!" Ike yelled and jumped out of the bush, relieved that the action was finally about to start. "Let's go, and don't drag too much shrubbery along with you!" With that he dashed forward, his sword Ettard in hand, challenging his comrades to catch up with him – and to their credit, most of them did.

"How about a little warcry, just so they know we're coming?" Boyd asked, running at his commander's right side. Without waiting for a reply, he threw his head back and roared loudly – or at least loud for a beorc, Ike thought; he doubted that the Daein forces had heard him, being too busy trying to dodge arrows and lighting bolts.

"It's horrible," Mia shouted, running on Ike's left. "He really _is _turning into Skrimir! Boss, do something about it!"

"How about you two start looking at what's in front of you!" Ike pointed toward the Daein army, which was undergoing a change in formation: As soon as the barrage from above had begun, the Daein soldiers had started to run, hoping to get out of the gorge without suffering too many casualties. Naturally, the heavily-armored and therefore slower knights who had constituted the vanguard of the army were now overtaken by their lighter-armored comrades, inadvertently becoming the rear guard. "The heavyweights are slowing down," Ike said, "just as Soren predicted."

"That's great," Boyd shouted, raising his massive weapon over his head. "Time to make good use of my hammer."

"We don't have to break through their lines," Ike reminded everybody as the distance between his group and Daein's knights shrunk. "Just keep them occupied so the cavalry can run down their light troops from the other side."

"Oscar always gets the easy jobs," Boyd complained, pressing out words between gasping breaths. "He doesn't even have to run, sitting lazily on his horse."

"Feel free to join the cavalry, but only after this battle is over," Ike replied. "Now enough with the wittiness. We're upon them! Hit them hard, Greil Mercenaries!"

Although they were being continuously shot at with fireballs, thunderbolts and deadly gusts of wind, the highly disciplined armored knights of Daein still noticed the enemy approaching from their rear, and most of them reacted fast enough to turn around and aim their lances at Ike and his men. He yelled at them to slow down so that they would not impale themselves on the enemy weapons, and so they approached the enemy in closed formation and with cautious eyes.

_Soren and the other mages should be focusing their fire elsewhere now, so they don't accidentally hit us while we're engaging Daein_, Ike thought as his gaze wandered up and down the enemy line, looking for the most powerful foe as he always did. His gaze quickly fell upon the sole Daein soldier wearing white armor... and it was not Mia's archrival.

"General Tauroneo!" Ike shouted and raised his sword over his head. "Prepare yourself!"

"General Ike!" The old Daein warhorse blocked Ike's first strike with his large shield and immediately followed up with a jab of his lance. "So we meet again in combat."

"Does that make you happy?" Ike asked, sidestepping Tauroneo's lance with ease. "Has Daein returned to its old ways of conquest? Why are you attacking Crimea again?" Tauroneo had not been with Sothe and Zihark at Ribahn River; perhaps he would give Ike a more straightforward answer about the state of affairs in Daein.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot answer your question," Tauroneo said formally, even as he tried to impale Ike once more. "Daein is going through troubled times at the moment. That is all."

"That's not the answer I hoped for," Ike replied and got a hit in on his opponent's calf, but Tauroneo merely grunted, his body protected by his heavy armor. "So I can't talk you into switching sides again?"

"I... I'm sorry." The old general's voice was hoarse. "I don't want to fight you." And yet, he underscored his words with another lance thrust. Ike was not so easily deterred, though, because talking to enemies while dodging their attacks had long since become second nature to him.

"If you don't want to fight, then don't fight! If you agree to leave Crimea alone, we will let you–"

"I'm sorry," Tauroneo said again, this time more forcefully. "Sorry for nurturing your hope that we could settle this peacefully... because we can't." He blocked several successive blows with his shield, not giving Ike an inch, and sent him staggering backward when he slammed the shield against his chest. "If Daein is to live, Crimea must fall." Tauroneo screamed in rage as he stabbed in Ike's direction, whether rage at himself or somebody else. "I will say no more," he concluded, his face a granite mask of sheer resolve. "Let's finish this."

"Very well," Ike said and brought down Ettard hard against the general's shield. "If this is how it must be."

* * *

Standing at the edge of the northern precipice of Carcass Gorge, Soren had a perfect view over the battlefield below, which allowed the master tactician to watch the chess pieces move across the board in precisely the manner he had predicted. The ongoing barrage of magic and arrows had sent Daein fleeing toward the western end of the gorge, pulling apart their formation. The heavy troops lagged behind and were now being kept busy by Ike and his forces, and so they could not shield Daein's main army while Titania, Oscar and the other mounted troops were charging them from the west, about to deliver the finishing blow.

_Faster,_ Soren thought as he watched the cavalry ride into the gorge, kicking up clouds of dust and soil in their wake. _Ride faster and run them down! Trample the vaunted Maiden of Dawn beneath your hooves!_

Part of Soren was surprised about the bloodlust he felt toward Daein's supreme commander. Was he not usually cold and detached even during combat? _Particularly_ during combat, since the slightest mistake made in the heat of the moment could mean the difference between victory and defeat. But then he recalled the words that girl had spoken to him during the climax of the battle at Ribahn River, and he remembered why he detested her so. She had belittled, pretending to know him better than he knew himself, and spoken all kinds of insulting nonsense.

_"You are so... cold. It's like you're cloaked in frost."_

_"Your heart is frozen, but I feel a warm core trying to melt through that ice."_

Of the many sorts of people in the world, Soren detested idealists most of all. Those who refused to see the world for the cruel, heartless place that it was, and who insisted that 'warmth' and 'sympathy' and, worst of all, 'love', were anything but words, empty and meaningless, lost in the wind as soon as they were spoken.

It was bad enough when pampered, spoiled children talked like this – those who had grown up with a silver spoon in their mouth and had never experienced hardship, had never felt what it was like to be alone and hated. People like the erstwhile Princess Elincia – although judging by her recent actions, she seemed to have learned a thing or two about the ways of the world.

_Good for her._

But it was much, much worse when the sickening hymn to happiness and love was sung by those who should know better, those who had been outcasts since the day of their birth. And there could be no doubt that this Maiden of Dawn, a Branded just like Soren, had experienced her fair share of suffering and fear, especially since she hailed from the xenophobic nation of Daein. She must be hiding her mark all day, fearing exposure during every waking minute, knowing that the fanatical devotion of her soldiers would turn into hate if they ever knew her for what she truly was – a half-breed even among half-breeds.

So why was that girl still laboring under the delusion that all it would take for the outcasts to be accepted was 'warmth' on their part? Why was she pretending that the walls Soren had raised around his heart served any other purpose than protecting him from the cruelty of the world? Was she trying to blame _him _for all the blind hate that had been directed at him throughout his life? Did she honestly believe that if he was just a bit nicer to people, they would be nicer to him in return?

No, Soren decided. The girl could not be that foolish and delusional without also being a drooling moron. But she was smarter than that, which only permitted one conclusion: She had chosen her words carefully to undermine his defenses, to make him believe, if only for a single moment, that there might be more to this world than pain and misery, to soften his resolve at the crucial moment of battle. A crafty scheme, Soren had to admit. But one he had seen through now, if not back then.

"They're closing in," a piping voice cried somewhere to Soren's left. "I can see Titania... and my brother!" It was Rolf, the young, but talented archer, who was held back from realizing his full potential by his concern not so much about himself, but about others.

"You're too easily distracted!" Shinon barked at him. The two were the foremost among the company's bowmen, and together with their peers and Soren's mages, had been the ones to sent Daein's army into a panicked flight. "Let them do their job while we do ours." He pulled back an arrow and let it fly seemingly without aiming at all, and it zoomed down into the gorge and hit a Daein cleric in the chest, felling him instantly. "Bullseye!"

_Too easily distracted... _The accusation had been aimed at Rolf, but right now, it also applied to Soren, who shook his head in anger that the Maiden of Dawn had managed to distract him so. Fortunately, Rolf's high-pitched cry (was his voice never going to break?) had drawn Soren's attention back to the battle going on below, and allowed him to see an unsettling development that could possibly derail his plan,

Daien's halberdiers had formed a running phalanx, pointing their long, dangerous polearms in the direction of the incoming cavalry charge. An armored wall of lances, they would easily impale most of Titania's riders, with the mages and archers of Daein close behind them, ready to slaughter those that survived the initial clash. The armored knights at the other end of the gorge were barely holding out against Ike and his men, keeping them away from the vulnerable backs of their main army.

_My plan did not account for this possibility..._

Soren found himself impressed against his own will: Organizing a panicking army into an orderly formation while on the run was not an easy feat, and it reminded him not to underestimate the Maiden of Dawn. Then again, she had only been able to pull this feat off because the barrage from above had lost its intensity. And that was because of...

"Shinon!" Soren bellowed at the man who was in charge of the archers on top of the plateau. "Tell your bowmen to stop picking the soft targets in the back and focus on those halberdiers! If they maintain their formation they'll massacre Titania's unit!"

"Guess what I was just about to do, you little snot?" came Shinon's angry reply. Ike had placed him under Soren's direct command, and he made it no secret that he resented taking orders from his personal archenemy. "Take down those spearmen!" he shouted and proceeded to fire three arrows into the gorge in quick succession. Soren gave the same order to the small cadre of mages under his command – who, he had to admit, had also failed to keep up a coordinated barrage, picking and choosing target's at will instead.

_It's partially my fault_, Soren admitted angrily even as he readied a wind spell to try and break the enemy phalanx. _If I hadn't been distracted, I would have noticed–_

Soren's blood froze and he stopped his spell in mid-casting when the cry of a wyvern rent the air above him.

_What in the name of...?_

"Follow me and slay those cowards!" a woman's voice resounded high above him. "For Daein!" An instant later, a javelin hit the ground mere inches from Soren, who could only stare in shock at the dozens of wyvern riders descending upon him and his troops, led by a red-haired young woman who had very nearly impaled him with her throw.

_This... this is madness!_

"Don't just stand there like an idiot!" Shinon yelled nearby. "Swat them out of the sky!" He let an arrow fly, but missed Jill's wyvern by a hair. "Come on!"

"This makes no sense!" Soren yelled back. "Everybody knows you don't attack archers and mages with flyers! Everybody!"

"But they're doing it anyway," Shinon said and fired another arrow, piercing the wing of Jill's wyvern. "Take them down!" he commanded his archers, and a volley of arrows hissed through the morning air, hitting and dropping several of Daein's flying warbeasts.

_It's a suicide attack! No rational person could have predicted this!_

I_ could not have predicted this!_

While the realization was still setting in, the wyvern riders were upon them, making a low overflight over the plateau and spearing several of Soren's mages during their fly by, though not without losing two more of their numbers to Shinon's arrows. "Sir," one of the mages yelled at Soren, his half-used thunder tome open and readied. "Permission to attack those flyers!"

"They're just a distraction!" Soren yelled back and looked down into the gorge, where Daein's phalanx was posed to clash with the attacking Greil cavalry. "We have to stay focused! We must support Titania and Oscar!"

"Screw Titania and Oscar!" Shinon yelled, only to throw his head around and peer nervously at Rolf, but it seemed that Oscar's brother had not heard him. "I'm not going to end up on a spear! Keep shooting at them," he addressed his archers, "no matter what Ike's buttboy says!"

"Sir, they're turning for another attack!" the older mage told Soren, his tone desperate. "Right now they're vulnerable to our magic! Please allow us to attack!"

"No! We must stick to the plan!"

"You're insane!" the mage hissed and turned to address his peers. "Attack those wyverns! That's an order! I'll take responsibility with Commander Ike." Only too happy to be allowed to defend their skins, the other mages joined their bow-wielding comrades in their skyward barrage, and many a wyvern fell toward the earth with its wings scorched or sundered.

_Everything is going to fall apart! _Soren thought. _We have to destroy that phalanx! _But the men who were supposedly under his command would not obey him. If Ike had given the order in Soren's stead, they would have stood there and continued firing down the gorge without flinching even as they were torn apart by the rending claws of wyverns. But Soren was not one to inspire such loyalty. He inspired only contempt.

_It's on their heads_, he thought angrily. _I can't kill all of Daein's halberdiers on my own._

The wyvern riders were coming down for their second attack, launching javelins and throwing axes at Soren's men. Scornfully, he realized that his energies were better spent trying to wipe out those wyvern riders as quickly as possible, and then to salvage what could be salvaged in the battle below. His shock and confusion abated, and he picked up an Elwind tome from the pile of replacement spell books lying nearby. As he cast the most destructive spell he could find, Soren's confidence returned to him: He was a powerful mage in spite of his years, and he could bring swift death to his enemies with just a few words and a page from a book.

_And if death is what they want, then I will give it to them_, he thought as he unleashed his spell upon the enemy leader. An unnatural gust of wind engulfed her wyvern, tore up its wings, and with a cold, satisfied smile, Soren watched both rider and mount plummet toward the earth. They hit the ground only a few feet away from him, prompting him to cast a single curious glance at them. And nothing more than a single glance was necessary, since the young woman's neck had been so twisted by the impact that her head was almost at a right angle to her body. Her empty eyes seemed to stare at Soren and accuse him of murder, but he had seen the same dead eyes too often to be affected by them anymore.

_So sorry, Jill. I guess you should have stayed with us instead of returning to Daein. Such a waste, squandering your talent in a suicide attack..._

Banishing the slain enemy from his mind, Soren tore another page out of his spell book and aimed a spell at a new target. He could not afford to pay any heed to the battle in the gorge, and whether it would see the Greil Mercenaries triumphant or defeated.

* * *

_AN:_

_ What do you do when a chapter goes on for too long and you can't seem to finish it without cutting it off early? Exactly, you turn it into a two-parter. Go me!_

_Also, given the setting of the gorge, the temptation of making somebody pull a literal cliffhanger was hard to resist, but somehow I managed. _

_Part II coming soon... probably._


	24. Carcass Gorge, Part II

**Chapter 24: Carcass Gorge, Part II**

"Thank you, Jill," Micaiah whispered under her breath as she watched the red-haired wyvern rider drop to her death above the northern precipice. "Your surprise attack bought us the time we needed." She wanted to grieve for the young woman whose miraculous appearance had distracted the ambushers at a critical moment, but there was no time: The halberdier phalanx was in full running, with Micaiah and the light troops right behind, and they would clash with their mounted attackers very soon. Sothe was running to her right, a throwing knife at the ready, and Nolan to her left, his massive axe Tarvos held in both hands. Neither of them allowed themselves to be distracted by the wyvern riders dying above them, and Micaiah could only hope to match their single-mindedness.

_There'll be time for grief later. Now, we have to fight! Thanks to Jill and the others, we now have a real chance of surviving this._

Micaiah held her opened Thani tome in her right hand, ready to send its searing light at the approaching enemy. Its magic was especially effective against mounted troops, and she was determined to make good use of it. _No sense saving it for later_, she thought, recalling the many times she had held back on using a page from this rare and valuable tome. _I'll go all out._

"Here they come," she heard Aran's cry, the halberdier's voice as steady and almost bored-sounding as always. The fact that he was about to collide with a charge of mounted knights did not seem to bother him much. "Remember, aim for the horses, not the riders!"

_The horses don't want to be here_, Micaiah thought, even though she knew she could not afford to be so considerate now. _And neither do we_, she added grimly. She could see the enemy leader – a woman with long, red braids, riding on an armored white steed, holding a large poleaxe above her head. She wore no helmet, and there was a clear expression of worry on her face.

_She knows they'll take heavy losses if they charge into our lines. But will she...?_

The sounds of the enemy's hoofbeats had grown so loud as to almost be unbearable, the smell of their horses so strong that Micaiah had to hold her breath. Only a few more seconds until they clashed. She repeated the well-known incantation for her spell in her mind. The enemy was so close! Only a moment longer and they would no longer be able to turn around...

With a frustrated cry, the red-haired knight brought her horse about, and yelled at her comrades to do the same. They obeyed with remarkable speed and efficiency, turning around without their horses colliding, proof that they often trained high speed maneuvers. But no matter how well-trained they were, they still had to come to a near-halt in order to turn around. They were just outside the range of the halberdiers' polearms, but far enough for the ranged fighters.

"Strike!" Micaiah yelled, and sent her spell at the red-haired leader just as she was about to turn. The beam of light did not hit her body, merely grazing her face and effecting a painful scream, but it was not enough to send her falling off her horse. But many of her comrades were not so lucky, falling under the arrows and fireballs of Micaiah's men, and without dwelling on her failure, the Maiden of Dawn unleashed a second spell, this time aimed at a green-haired knight who had been a bit slow to turn. Her attack struck him squarely in the back, and he was thrown out of the saddle and trampled under the hooves of his panicking horse. With grim satisfaction, Micaiah fired another spell at the fleeing enemy, and another, tearing the pages out of her tome at frantic speed. She killed three more enemies – all of them by hitting them in the back, but she felt no guilt about that – before the decimated knights were out of range. Their wounded were trampled by the pursuing halberdiers, and Micaiah doubted that either horse or man survived among them.

"Stop the pursuit!" she shouted, and her men obeyed instantly, their battle rage easily reigned in by the words of their leader. "You won't be able to catch them, and I doubt they'll come back for seconds." Micaiah looked at the scores of dead bodies lying before her, hardened to such sights long ago, and tried to ascertain their numbers: Estimating by the size of the fleeing enemy, they must have lost almost half their troops during their failed charge.

_If not for Jill, I would be lying there, along with everyone else, trampled to death._

Micaiah looked up and saw that only few wyvern riders were left in the skies above the gorge, occasionally darting down to attack an enemy on top of the plateau. The conventional wisdom that attacking archers and mages with flying troops was suicide had been confirmed once more... but their deaths had not been in vain. Micaiah vowed to get at least some of her men out of this death trap alive – and Sothe among them, if she had anything to say about it.

Just as she thought of him, she saw Sothe step forward in order to take a closer look at their slain enemies. "This is strange... none of them are wearing the colors of Crimea."

"What does it matter?" Micaiah asked tersely. She desperately wanted to call the few remaining wyvern riders back, but they seemed to be determined to buy the main army as much time as they could, even if it cost every last one of them their lives. They had to use that time to get out of the gorge as fast as possible.

"It matters because..." Sothe paused in mid-sentence and stared at one of the dead enemy soldiers; it was the green-haired knight whom Micaiah had killed earlier. "I know this man!" he hissed. "And that woman... of course! That was Titania." He stared at Micaiah in shock and amazement. "These aren't Crimean forces. They're the Greil Mercenaries."

"What?" Micaiah stared back at Sothe. "But that means..."

"It means that _he_ is here," Sothe finished, an expression of barely-controlled fear on his face.

_That's not what I was about to say_, Micaiah thought, but she was interrupted by a scream coming from Leonardo. She turned around on the spot and saw him shaking and pointing at the eastern end of the gorge, where General Tauroneo and his men had been engaged by the ambushing enemy. Micaiah followed his gaze, and she saw a gap the line of the armored knights – a gap through which a horde of axe- and sword-wielding warriors came charging. And even though they were still about a mile away, she thought she could tell that their leader, who wielded a large, two-handed sword in one hand, had blue hair.

"General Ike," Sothe whispered, an annoying hint of hero-worship in his voice even at this time.

"Good," Micaiah nodded grimly. "Let him come." Sothe stared at her as if she just said something completely insane. "I mean it," she added without taking her sight off the man who had brought Daein to ruin. "This ends now."

* * *

"Follow me!" Ike called out to his warriors as he ran toward the center of Carcass Gorge. "Don't bother with those knights! They can't catch up to us with their heavy armor!" He saw Boyd and Mia follow him out of the corners of his eyes, as well as a sizable portion of his men streaming through the gap in the enemy lines left by the death of General Tauroneo at the hands of their commander.

_A pity it had to end like this. _Ike had gained no pleasure from killing a friend of his father's, but in the end, there had been no other way. _And he took his secret to the grave... the secret why Daein is fighting this senseless war. It was terrible enough that he would rather have died than reveal it to me._

Ike had no idea what that secret was, and if the other Daein soldiers were every bit as stubborn as the old Rider, he might never learn. But regardless of Daein's motivation, they had to be stopped, and the fastest way to do this was by attacking the soft backs of their main army. Everything would be over if he managed to kill or capture the Maiden of Dawn.

_Good look taking her alive if she's half as headstrong as Tauroneo._

"I don't see Titania and the others anywhere," Boyd shouted between heavy breaths. "Why didn't they attack? Or did they?" There was audible concern in his voice, though probably less about Titania than about his brother Oscar. "Hey, Ike, what do you think?"

"I think Soren's plan went awry somewhere," Ike pressed out, his stamina still nowhere near depleted. "They aren't shooting anymore," he added and pointed at the northern precipice where a few wyvern riders were still circling above the plateau. "Where did those wyverns come from?"

"I don't know, but they must be crazy, attacking Soren and Shinon like this," Boyd said. "Not one of them is going to survive if they don't withdraw!"

"Their fanaticism is scary," Ike agreed. "But it'll be all over once we take down the Maiden of Dawn."

"Hey boss, isn't she still just a girl?" Mia's voice came from behind Ike. "Isn't killing her a bit much?"

"She's the enemy general," Ike replied without turning his head. "And she's a magic user, so it's not like she'll be defenseless."

"It's not right," Mia griped. "Girls shouldn't have to go to war."

"Look who's talking," Boyd grinned.

"I'm not a girl anymore!"

"But a grown woman wouldn't still be looking for her prince charming."

"Archrival!" Mia yelled. "It's a completely different thing!"

"Cut it out, you two," Ike shouted. "We have to slow down a bit," he added after turning his head and seeing that most of their comrades had fallen behind. "We wouldn't want to face Daein's army all on our own."

"Would be a nice challenge," Boyd said, but he slowed down along with his commander. "Damn, still no sign of Titania and Oscar," he said after taking another look at the Daein army. "And the enemy doesn't look confused or disordered. This could actually be hard."

"That's never stopped us before, has it?" Ike gave him a grim smile, then nodded when he saw that the other mercenaries had caught up with them.

"Most of us made it through before the knights closed their lines again," one of them reported. "What are your orders, commander?"

"We attack Daein head-on," Ike said and raised Ettard. "If Titania or Soren can't assist us, we'll do it on our own." He acknowledged that the enemy outnumbered their small group by a factor of three or four, but within the narrow confines of Carcass Gorge, they would not be able to bring the whole weight of their numbers to bear. "We've faced longer odds before and won through," he reminded his men. "Let's go."

* * *

"This is madness, Micaiah," Sothe implored her. "Ike always seeks out the enemy commander! If we leave a gap in our lines, he'll be in our faces within moments."

"That's what I'm counting on," Micaiah replied calmly. Following her instructions, Aran and his halberdiers were facing the foes approaching from the east, but she had told them to leave enough room at their center to allow a small number of enemies through. "If we can predict his actions then we can prepare for them. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

"What's your plan?" Sothe demanded angrily. "Are you hoping the Black Knight will appear in the nick of time and save you?"

"Sothe!" Micaiah frowned. "While he would be a great boon, I'd never plan my strategy around a miracle."

"Sorry for doubting you," Sothe said, and he actually sounded contrite. "But how do you plan to defeat Ike?"

"You said he likes to duel the enemy commander? He won't get it. I have no intention of giving him a 'fair fight'. Or has Daein been treated fair in all this?"

"From his point of view, Ike is just defending Crimea against aggressors," Sothe pointed out. "I really can't blame him."

"Yes, you're right," Micaiah admitted. She cared little for General Ike, but she could not deny that from his point of view, she was the villain. "But that doesn't matter now! We're not acting of our free will. We must fight him, whether we live or die. The blame rests with others."

"I didn't mean to blame you, Micaiah," Sothe replied and gently squeezed her hand. "I know you're doing the best in a horrible situation," he said before letting go again and drawing his combat knife. "I'll stand right here by your side and throw myself in Ike's path if I have to."

"Such chivalry," Nolan joked. He seemed to be no worse the wear from the last days' marching and fighting. "And they say today's youth has no values anymore." He raised his axe. "But unfortunately Sothe is a lightweight, so he won't make for much of a roadblock. May I join him?"

"Me, too," Edward cried out. "I won't let some mercenary thug lay his hands on you."

"Ike is..." Sothe began.

"...not a thug, yes, we know." Micaiah sighed. "You'll defend him even as he's swinging his sword at us, won't you?"

"He'll get that opportunity soon," Nolan said. "They're closing in!"

Micaiah looked at the east and saw that he was right: Ike and his mercenaries were nearly upon them, brandishing swords and axes and out for their blood. The man himself, however, was as stoic as Sothe had always described him, running at the forefront without yelling or wildly waving his sword around. His gaze was locked on her, and Micaiah shuddered involuntarily.

_I won't be afraid of him! He's not invincible, no matter what Sothe says!_

"Aran, you go and keep him busy," Micaiah said raised her Thani tome. "I'll try my best not to hit you."

"Aye," Aran said and stepped forward, lowering his lance toward the attackers, although his expression seemed to say 'Why me?'

_Because you have the strongest armor of all of us here, and because you can keep Ike at a distance with your lance._

"Here they come!" Micaiah cried as the Greil Mercenaries clashed with Daein's halberdiers. She wanted to let her spells loose at them, but she knew better than that: She would keep them in reserve for the man who was going to come after her, even if it meant letting her comrades go unassisted.

"I see him," Sothe whispered. "Get ready."

"I am perfectly ready," Micaiah said, her hand touching the pages of her tome. Within an instant, the could fire a blast of searing light at her enemy... as soon as he showed himself.

_There he is!_

"This is going to be so much fun," Aran sighed and thrust his greatlance at the blue-haired swordsman who had come rushing through the gap with no heed for his own safety, accompanied only by a handful of his fellow warriors. Micaiah saw her comrades rush out to intercept them, except for Sothe, who was determined to play the role of her protector until the last moment. But she could not pay them any heed, rather keeping her eyes on Ike as he swung his sword against Aran who had visible trouble to keep his assailant at bay.

_Just one opportunity... make a step to the side, Aran, so I can hit him. Yes, like that!_

Without hesitation, Micaiah unleashed a blast of light at her enemy, and prayed to the Goddess that she would not miss her mark.

* * *

It could not have taken Soren and the other troops on the plateau more than perhaps five minutes to annihilate the greater whole of the enemy wyvern riders, but no matter how many they slew, the survivors just kept coming, intent to sacrifice their lives so that their Maiden of Dawn might live. Contrasted with his own soldiers who had refused to heed his commands at a critical time, such loyalty was to be envied, even though Soren hated to admit that he envied that girl in any way. But even though they did not fear death, the wyvern riders still succumbed to it, one by one, until only a dozen were still alive and trying to swoop down on the mages and archers who had killed so many of their comrades.

_They can handle themselves now_, Soren decided. _I have to see what's going on down there!_ He cast a last glance back at the circling wyvern riders, but none of them was anywhere close to him, and he decided that it was safe to turn his back on them. The flow of combat had let him a small distance away from the precipice, and he hurried to return to the spot where he had been at the beginning of the fight, if only because his spell book was almost used up, and there was a pile of replacement tomes at that spot.

_Ike is going to be just fine_, Soren tried to calm himself down. _He doesn't need me to look after him._

But that thought did not slow his steps, and when he reached the edge of the plateau, Soren was almost too fast for his own good. He came to a halt only a few inches before the long drop, waving his arms to keep his balance, and although the steep face below him was overgrown with shrubbery that would have slowed down his fall, his survival chances would still have been rather small. But he cared little about his own safety now; he had to find out how the battle had progressed.

As Soren had feared, the situation down in the gorge looked nothing at all as it should have. Titania's charge had ended in disaster, as testified by the dozens of dead horses and riders lying in the dust toward the west. The greater whole of the Daein army was still intact and, worse, in an orderly formation, while the armored knights in the east were moving slowly, but surely, back toward the center of the gorge.

And at that very center, right below Soren, was Ike, along with most of his ambushing party, trying to do what he did best: Hacking a path through the enemy lines toward the commander in an attempt to bring the battle to an early end. He was almost within striking distance of their commander, the Maiden of Dawn, whose silver hair made her stand out among the other soldiers. But between Ike and her stood a single black-clad halberdier who, while rapidly losing ground, still commanded his full attention.

Because of that, Ike did not see the spell fired by the Maiden until it hit him in the chest.

* * *

When the blast of pure light struck him, Ike felt like he had been hit by an armored warhorse in full gallop. His entire body went limp, and for a moment, he enjoyed the questionable sensation of weightlessness as he was thrown through the air by the sheer force of the impact. His chest felt like it was on fire, and when he hit the ground with a crunching sound, he feared for a moment that his spine had been broken. Worst of all, his limbs refused to obey him, and so it was for the first time ever since his father had knocked him out during that training fight three years ago that Ike found himself completely helpless.

_I've always been weak against magic. Damn it, why won't my legs move?_

"Stand down, Greil Mercenaries!" a triumphant female voice reached Ike's ears. "Your commander has fallen! Lay down your arms and we will spare your lives!"

_No way! I'm still alive! I have to let them know..._

"IKE! NO!"

The voice came from above, from the top of the precipice. It belonged to a black figure that Ike could barely recognize with his bleary eyes, and when he did recognize Soren, he had already jumped.

_No, I must be seeing things..._

The black figure tumbled down the precipice, straight down toward the bottom of the gorge, its fall slowed somewhat by the many branches growing on the steep face. Spinning around its own axis, it was only by sheer luck that the figure hit the ground with its face down, saving it from a shattered spine. Surprisingly, it had landed only a few feet away from Ike, who would have turned his head to take a closer look if his neck had not hurt so much.

_That can't have been Soren... or can it?_

"Ike," a weak, shaking voice spoke somewhere to Ike's right. "Don't be dead. Please... say something!"

_That's Soren's voice. He really did..._

"Say something!" Soren cried, his voice wet with tears. "Anything! Anything!"

Ike had listened to many a dying man on the battlefield cursing his fate or praying for relief from his pain, but not once before had he heard such utter, crushing despair in a human voice. And while he had been unable to do much for those dying men, there was something he could do for the owner of this voice. Driven by the overwhelming need to allay Soren's pain, Ike forced his hurting limbs to move and got up.

"I'm all right," he said gently, and even though every step was painful, he walked to the black-robed mage who looked so small and fragile lying on the ground. "I'm built like a brick wall, you know." He knelt next to Soren and, careful not to hurt him, picked him up. He was lighter than he would ever have expected.

"Ike..." Soren looked at his friend, his face red with bruises and smeared blood, his lips forming a smile. "You mustn't die, Ike..." His eyes fell shut and his body went limp, but for what it was worth, he was still breathing in regular intervals.

Only now, looking at his unconscious friend in his arms, did it occur to Ike that he had never seen Soren smile before.

"That kid is absolutely crazy."

Boyd's voice reminded Ike that there were, in fact, people other than Soren around him, and more than just a few. And when he let his gaze wander over the Daein soldiers as well as his mercenaries, who had both stopped fighting at some point in time, he saw that every single pair of eyes was directed at him.

"I thought you were a goner, boss!" Mia said and wiped a tears from her eye. "Don't ever scare me like that again!" She glared at the unconscious Soren. "That goes for you, too!"

"So we meet in person, General Ike."

_Oh yes, she's still there, too._

Daein's Maiden of Dawn was standing before Ike (who only now realized that he had lost his sword during his flight), framed by her closest followers, including Sothe. Her famed silver hair was actually more white than silver, and her unreadable golden eyes made her seem every bit like the mythical figure she was said to be.

_She's just a mage. A powerful one, I can attest to that... but not a figure of legend. Not a saint sent by the Goddess. And yet..._

There was a clanging sound behind him, like that of many armored boots marching in lock-step, and Ike did not have to turn around to know that the late Tauroneo's armored knights had reached them, closing any avenue of escape. The halberdier who had fought him had picked up his sword Ettard and was eyeing it curiously, perhaps considering whether he should switch fighting styles. Boyd, Mia and the others still had their weapons, but none of them dared do anything with their commander dazed and disarmed.

_And yet she defeated us. _

The realization was instantaneous and undeniable. Whether it was by skill or luck or a bit of both, the Maiden of Dawn had won. For the first time since Ike had assumed command three years ago, the Greil Mercenaries had lost. He tried not to let that fact get to him, because he knew that his father also had lost on a few rare occasions. But the defeat still stung.

"Ah, Laura, there you are," the Maiden said to a young, black-haired cleric who had appeared at her side. "If it's not too much to ask, would you look at his injuries?" She pointed at Ike, who almost brusquely told her that he was in no need of such generosity, but then he realized that she had been referring to Soren. "Unless you don't trust her," she added, this time speaking to Ike.

"Do I have a choice?" Ike asked. There were no clerics in his group, since Rhys had fallen behind and had failed to make it through the gap earlier.

"We always have a choice," the Maiden said bitterly. "Even if it's only between evils of equal magnitude." She nodded at the cleric. "Go."

Ike stiffened when the girl approached him and Soren, although he had to admit that she looked the most peaceful person alive. Expecting treachery from her was probably overly suspicious, and he had no idea how serious Soren's condition was, so he did not rebuff her.

"None of his bones are broken," the girl said after a short inspection, sounding surprised at her own announcement. "It's a miracle!"

"He's had a rough life," Ike said. "I think he deserved one."

"I'll still cast a healing spell, in case he has internal injuries," the cleric said and raised her staff. Ike averted his eyes from the bright blue light of her spell, unable to shield them with his hands that carried Soren. "That's it," the girl said before returning to her comrades. "He should be all right."

_As all right as Soren will ever be_, Ike thought, but still uttered a gruff "thanks".

"I hope you appreciate this gesture of good will," the Maiden spoke to him, "because I must now ask you again to lay down your arms and surrender."

"I see," Ike said slowly to buy himself some time. He had negotiated many a surrender before, but this was the first time he would be the one doing the surrendering. "My terms are safe conduct for all of my men, including him." He raised his arms slightly to note that he was referring to Soren. "I would ask the same for myself, but I expect that you will take me prisoner."

"I accept your conditions," the Maiden said simply.

"Boss!" Mia glared at him. "No selfless sacrifices under my watch! I still need you for sparring!"

"It feels good to be wanted," Ike sighed. "But what can I do?"

"Don't worry," Boyd said, "if they lock you up, we'll bust you out. And if they try to kill you..."

"I do not execute prisoners," the Maiden of Dawn said sharply. "And you will be treated as well as circumstances allow us. As long as your men stay out of this conflict, we will return you unharmed after its conclusion."

"You mean after Daein has conquered all of Crimea, again!" Boyd shouted. "You can't do this, Ike," he addressed his commander. "Elincia would never forgive you!"

"The company is my first responsibility," Ike reminded him, "not Crimea." He walked over to Mia and held up Soren before her. "Get him to Mist and let her take another look at him." He looked at Boyd. "And tell Titania she's in command now."

"Are you sure about this, boss?"

"Being the 'boss' also means taking responsibility in cases like this," Ike said with a smirk. "It's not all fun and games, you know." Mia took over Soren from him and nodded. "I understand."

"I'm ready," Ike said and walked toward the Maiden of Dawn. "Hey, Sothe, long time no see," he said to his former comrade, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"I'm sorry it had to be like this, commander," the young man replied. "But you can trust Micaiah. She would never execute a prisoner."

"So you're called Micaiah," Ike said to the Maiden. "I think like that name better than your title." He closed his eyes and allowed himself a deep sigh. "Very well, Micaiah, I surr–"

"Hold it right there!"

_What? Who said that?_

"Titania!" Boyd cried out. "What happened to you?"

Ike followed Boyd's glance, and did indeed see his deputy commander, unarmed and on foot, escorted by two Daein halberdiers. Half her face was red with blood, and she wore a makeshift eye patch over her right eye.

"I'm alive," she said in Boyd's direction. "Commander, you mustn't surrender."

"Who's that?" Micaiah asked angrily. "Why did you bring her here?"

"My apologies," one of Titania's escorts said, "but she claimed to come as an envoy of the Queen of Crimea. And since you told us to bring any envoys to you..."

"I understand," Micaiah said. "Yes, that's what I told you. I'm sorry for yelling at you." She looked suspiciously at Titania. "I remember you leading the cavalry charge against us not long ago. So how come you're suddenly an envoy of Crimea?"

"Because we encountered the actual envoy of Crimea after our retreat, just outside the gorge," Titania replied, "and I decided to come in her place."

"I assume you are mad at me because of your eye," Micaiah said. "What can I say? We were enemies."

"I'm not here to complain about minor injuries," Titania said haughtily. "And you may have noticed that I have a second eye, to take over for the one I lost. I'll manage." She looked at Ike and her expression changed from one moment to the other, from defiance to shame. "Our charge was a failure, commander," she said. "We lost half of our mounted troops..." She peered at Boyd and hesitated for a split second. "Including Oscar."

"Wh-what?" Boyd stared at Titania, mouth agape, and let go of his hammer. It landed on his feet, but he did not even notice it. "Oscar can't be..."

"I sympathize with your losses, but you're here as a messenger," Micaiah said loudly to Titania. "Convey your message, please."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll love it," Titania said with unusual venom in her voice. It seemed that even she had reached the limits of her tranquility. "Daein is to lay down its arms and surrender immediately." Ike stared at her incredulously, and she gave him a shrug that seemed to say 'Hey, I'm just the messenger'.

"That's not funny at all," Micaiah said tensely. "You are trying to delay your surrender," she accused. "It's some sort of ploy– "

"Queen Elincia demands that you surrender," Titania repeated. "That is all."

"And what is she planning to do if we don't?" Micaiah asked angrily.

"She will activate the blood pact Daein signed with Begnion." Titania shrugged again. "Whatever that means."

"How... how does she know about the pact?" Micaiah demanded, her face suddenly very pale. Sothe, too, was staring in utter astonishment, while the rest of Daein's army seemed to have no idea what she was talking about. "This is impossible!" She looked helplessly at Sothe, who could not be of any help himself. "She's bluffing!"

"The messenger said that the pact is in Queen Elincia's possession, and that she will activate it if Daein does not surrender," Titania explained. "She invited you – and by that, I mean you personally, the Maiden of Dawn – to her palace to convince yourself that she's speaking the truth."

"I... I..." Micaiah stuttered helplessly, as if she had been the one to lose this battle. Ike had not idea what a blood pact was or what Titania's message meant, but if it was a bluff that Elincia had come up with, it was a most excellent one.

_But even if it works, we've still taken heavy losses today_, he thought grimly. _Oscar, and who knows how many more._ He peered at Boyd, who was silently talking to himself. _I'm sorry, my friend, but this is the risk every one of us takes._

"What is your answer?" Titania asked Micaiah, her tone impatient. "Will you accept her majesty's invitation?"

"I... I don't..." Micaiah looked at Sothe again. "What should I do?"

"If she really has the pact, then we can take it from her," he replied. "If we conquer Melior fast enough, the losses should be minimal."

"No, that's too dangerous! If she's keeping the document in a secret place outside the capital, Daein is doomed even if we conquer it."

"That's true," Sothe conceded.

"But if she's bluffing, and we surrender, then the Senate will..."

"I... I don't know what to say," Sothe whispered. "We have no way to know." He looked unhappily in Ike's direction, as if he was begging his former commander for advice. _Don't look at me_, Ike thought_, I have no idea what you're all talking about._

"General Ike." Micaiah turned to him, and it seemed she had come closer to a decision. "If I surrender now, the fate of my men will be in your hands. What would you do then?"

"What I always do after a victory: Disarm them and help them treat their injured," Ike said. Even against an undeserving enemy, that had always been his standard course of action. "Sothe can confirm that."

"He's speaking the truth, Micaiah."

"I see." Micaiah gulped and made a shaky step forward. "Then I surrender in accordance with the terms you named." She collapsed to the ground and hid her face behind her hands. "I'm sorry, everyone."

Her announcement was followed by dead silence. The soldiers of Daein, cheated out of their victory, were devastated, but the Greil Mercenaries had no reason to celebrate, either, having lost many of their comrades this day. Ike, too, was none too happy, although he acknowledged that things could have turned out a lot worse for them.

"In the name of Queen Elincia, I accept your surrender," Ike said. "If you need a horse to travel to Melior, Titania will lend you one."

"Please stand up, Micaiah," Sothe said to his friend and commander, offering her his hand. "We have to go see the queen. We have to _know_."

"Know whether I condemned all of Daein because of a bluff," she added hoarsely. "I don't even want to know that!"

"Please, you're stronger than that."

_What in creation is going on here? Condemning all of Daein? Blood pacts? Will somebody please explain this to me?_

But nobody stepped forth to volunteer an explanation, and so all Ike could do was give instructions about treating the wounded and recovering the dead. It took Micaiah a good ten minutes before she could find the strength to get up and, with Sothe's help, climb a horse that would bring the two of them to Melior. She looked as if she was being sent to her execution, and all of Daein along with her. Ike admitted that he had not the slightest idea what she had lived through and what was going on in her mind, but even he, who had been called an emotionless log before, could not help but feel pity for her.

"Boss. Boss!" Mia sounded both confused and terrified. "What's going on here?"

"I have no idea, but it's something Elincia did."

"She won't do anything to that poor girl!" Mia flared up. "Did you see her? She was devastated. Like, dead inside!"

"Elincia won't hurt her," Ike said with complete conviction. "But she has been coming up with highly effective solutions for her problems lately..."

"Then I hope I'll never become one of her problems," Mia said.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Ike said. "Not unless you walk up to her and declare that General Geoffrey is your archrival." He cut off a presumably witty reply and walked over to Boyd, who had stopped talking to himself and was now just staring into space. "How are you feeling?" Ike asked him.

"Not too well," Boyd said hoarsely. "But I... I can manage." He looked unhappily at Ike. "I'm more worried about Rolf..." He gulped. "Unless he, too, is..."

"We'll take the long way up to the plateau and look for him," Ike said. "Right now." It was the least he could do for Boyd at the moment.

"Yes, I have to go and look for him," Boyd said. "But I'll go alone. You have to take care of things here."

"Are you sure? I can entrust it to Titania if you–"

"Titania just lost her eye," Boyd said. "And Oscar was a close friend of hers, too." He shook his head. "I can't pretend I'm the only one feeling grief."

"If you say so," Ike replied. "But I'll see you as soon as I can."

"Yeah. Thanks," Boyd said and slowly wandered toward the western end of the canyon, a sad giant looking for his little brother.

"Just for the record," Titania said, coming up to Ike from behind, "I'm perfectly ready for duty. And if you even attempt to oust me as deputy commander because of this," she pointed at her eye patch, "then I'll raise a stink like you won't believe."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ike said. "I'm glad you survived, Titania."

"I cut it pretty close." She sighed. "Not all of us were so lucky."

"Not all of us," Ike nodded and let his gaze wander around. He had been on many battlefields bloodier than this one, but he had never seen so many corpses in such a confined space.

Carcass Gorge was deserving of its name once more.


	25. A Murder of Crows

**Chapter 25: A Murder of Crows**

"The Raven King has arrived, Your Majesty."

"Good," Elincia nodded at the guard who had stuck his head into the throne room. "Send him in right away." Then she addressed Bertram, who was standing below the stairs leading up to the throne. "Be prepared for violence, but do not be the first to strike." She pointed at the white line that had been drawn in chalk across the red carpet, about twenty feet from the throne. "Unless he crosses that line. Then you are ordered to stop him by any means necessary."

"Then I hope he crossses it," Bertram hissed, shifting his rune sword in his hands. "That is for him to decide," Elincia said. She had recalled Bertram from the border, where the stand-off with the Begnion Central Army was still continuing, back to the palace for special guard duty, and she would not have chosen him for such a delicate job if she was not absolutely certain of his reliability. For all his savagery and bloodlust, he had never failed to keep himself under control when his queen ordered it, proving Izuka's dying words true that he would be her loyal slave forevermore.

"Greetings, Queen Elincia."

The large doors to the throne room were pushed open, and through them strode a tall, handsome man with a winning smile on his face. His clothes were black, as were his hair and the large wings sprouting out of his back. He carried himself with an air of conceited elegance that belied his strength, no doubt in order to make others underestimate him. But that did not work on Elincia, who had seen him in battle before, and knew that Naesala was not a man to be underestimated.

_Unfortunately for him, I hold all the trump cards. Or rather, the only card that matters._

"Wait for me, nestling!" the voice of an old man sounded beyond the doors, and a moment later, a second raven scurried into the throne room, this one much older than Naesala. Elincia knew him, too, and although he was not as frail as appearances suggested, she discounted Nealuchi as a real threat. After all, not only was Bertram here and prepared for violence, but she, too, was wearing armor and had her sheathed sword fastened to her belt.

_A very delicate situation... First of all, time to set boundaries._

"Mark the white line on the floor, King Kilvas," Elincia said, her voice loud and overbearing. "Make one step across and your blood will be spilled on the carpet." She smiled coldly, an expression she had practiced in the mirror because it did not yet come natural to her. "And I would rather not go through the effort of having it replaced."

"Why the unpleasant tone?" Naesala asked and walked toward her, though he did stop precisely at the white line, while Nealuchi kept a small distance to his king, eyeing Elincia with great distrust. "I prefer a relaxed atmosphere for doing business."

"I'm not sure what kind of _business_ you had in mind, Naesala," Elincia said, foregoing titles and honorifics even though she had only talked once or twice with the Raven King, three years ago. "I invited you here to demonstrate the truth behind my messenger's claim." She picked up a document tube from a small table next to the throne and showed it to him. "I am holding your country's future in my hand."

"I could hardly believe my ears when the messenger spoke the words 'blood pact'," Naesala said. "In fact, I still doubt the truth of your claim."

"And yet you ordered your plunderers to stand down and came here immediately."

"One does not take chances where a blood pact is involved. Not to mention we had a bunch of angry tigers on our tails." The Raven King frowned. "If you would be so kind as to show me the document?"

"Of course." Elincia removed the blood pact from the tube, unfurled it and held it out before her. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Bertram stiffen – she had warned him about the value of this document, and that he should rather kill Naesala than let it fall into his hands.

"Nealuchi, step to the line and take a good look at it," Naesela said to the older crow. "I've never seen the document myself, you know," he said casually in Elincia's direction, "having inherited it from my idiot predecessor. But Nealuchi was present on the day it was signed." The Raven King sighed and drew his hand through his hair. "He must have been senile already, or else he would have done something to prevent the king from signing it."

"You know it wasn't that easy, Nestling," Nealuchi protested as he walked toward the white line. "The king had good reasons for what he did... or at least he thought he had."

"That's why the thinking should be left to the people who are good at it," Neasala said and looked amicably at Elincia. "Don't you agree?"

_How affable he is. It's true... he cannot take any chances._

"I must take this opportunity to tell you how disappointed I am, Queen Elincia," Nealuchi suddenly said, his wizened face a grimace of scorn. "Doing such a cruel thing to the Lady Leanne! She has forgiven you, but I will never–"

"Stop babbling you old fool and do the job I brought you here for," Naesala snapped and smacked the older crow on the back of his head. Nealuchi suffered this indignity without saying a word and focused his gaze on the document in Elincia's hand. "Yes," he said after a short inspection, "unless my old eyes deceive me, this is the same document. The signature is that of the previous king, written with his own blood."

"Does that satisfy you, King Kilvas?" Elincia asked.

"I shouldn't overestimate the eyesight and memory of this old fool," Naesala sighed and waved Nealuchi back. "It still could be a fake... just a very good one."

"Crimea is in a state of war with the Empire," Elincia reminded him. "I cannot think of a scenario in which they would let us make a forgery of the treaty that represents their hold over Kilvas, at least not one that isn't completely outlandish."

"True," Naesala admitted, "but you could have made the forgery without Begnion's knowledge."

"That would have required access to the original for many hours. With that kind of access, why not just take the real thing itself?"

In response to Elincia's question, Naesala smirked and raised both arms. "You have me convinced, Queen of Crimea. I accept that this is the real blood pact... though I would really like to know how you got your hands on it."

"I'd rather keep that secret to myself," she responded dryly.

"How very cautious of you." Naesala gave her another winning smile. "Then I can now make the business proposal I mentioned earlier. I would like to purchase this document from you, for the impressive sum of–"

"Impress someone else with your sums, Naesala," Elincia cut him off. "Obviously, the blood pact is not for sale."

"You'll change your mind once you hear my offer," the Raven King smiled. "Ten million gold."

"It is not for sale," Elincia said curtly.

"Twenty million!" Naesala offered without hesitation.

"Not for sale," Elincia repeated.

"Fifty million!" The Raven King's voice was desperate, not at all that of a smooth businessman anymore. "A hundred million!"

"Enough with this nonsense!" Elincia rose from her throne and glared at Naesala. "I said the pact is not for sale, and that is final." She was not without sympathy for the Raven King, who really did not deserve to be in such a horrible situation, but as things stood, her own situation was every bit as bad. "Trust me, I understand your desire to protect your people. In fact, I probably understand it better than most."

"If that is true, then you should give me this document so I can shred it!" Naesala demanded.

"I cannot do that," Elincia said. "We are both alike in that we must act in the interest of our people. Naturally, I must put Crimea's interests above those of Kilvas, as you must do the opposite. I intend to use this document to turn your people into my loyal allies." There. It was out.

"Allies?" Naesala spat out. "You mean slaves! And there I thought you were better than those vile Senators!"

"It would appear that you were wrong," Elincia said. "I am just as bad as them." She felt an inner chill as she spoke those words. She was about to enslave an entire nation to her will! Silok had called it 'unthinkable' and protested, but she had merely laid out to him the alternative: Crimea conquered and devastated once again, its population decimated and enslaved by an Empire whose pride had been injured. Faced with an existential threat, she could not be picky about her methods.

There was one alternative, of course: Setting Kilvas free instead of enslaving her, and trusting in her gratitude to help Crimea defeat the Empire. But as real as the Raven King's despair was, she could not gamble the fate of her nation on his good will. Unless she extorted his aid, there would be no guarantees.

"I personally aided you in the attack on Melior three years ago!" Naesala pleaded with Elincia, trying another angle. "Does that count for nothing?"

"It certainly did," Elincia said icily. "But whatever gratitude you earned that day was erased when your pillagers started to ravage Crimea and kill her citizens!"

"We had no choice!" Naesala shouted, losing his cool, but still staying behind the white line. "You know that! The Senate would have slaughtered my people one by one!"

"Easy, Nestling." Nealuchi put his hand against his king's arm, peering nervously at Bertram, who watched the Raven King's growing anger with great interest. "Nobody is blaming you."

"I don't need to be consoled," Naesala barked and pushed the old crow away. "I need that document!" he cried out, and his eyes shifted to Bertram, presumably assessing his strength and estimating his own chances in a fight against him. "Caution, King Kilvas," Elincia said. "You may be willing to risk your life by attacking him, but will you also risk the life of your people? If you die here in defiance of my will, they shall be the ones to pay the price."

"Oh, really?" All of a sudden, Naesala's confident demeanor returned to him, and he crossed his arms before his chest as he smiled at Elincia. "You said you were every bit as bad as the Begnion Senate... but I'm not sure I believe you. From what I remember, you were always a little... soft-hearted. For example, you did not even try to get some ransom for the captured Daein soldiers after the liberation of this city, letting them go free instead. I very much doubt that you have the stones to kill a bunch of perfectly innocent Kilvans... unlike those thrice-damned Senators."

_It was bound to come down to this, wasn't it?_

Naesala was too sly and cunning a ruler to be impressed by Elincia's threats without a demonstration that she was deadly serious. But such a demonstration would require her to kill, as he had put it, perfectly innocent Kilvans. Was she capable of doing that, or would she reach her moral limits here and now?

_I have sworn to do anything that is necessary to save Crimea_, Elincia tried to strengthen her resolve. _I made my decision before Naesala even entered this room. I cannot change my mind now. _

"Do not make the mistake of underestimating me," she said, undertaking one last try to threaten the Raven King into submission. "There's nothing I won't do for the sake of Crimea."

"You're quite convincing, Your Highness," Naesala said cautiously. "But even if you activate the blood pact, it will only kill one raven on the first day, and then two on the second, three on the third, and so on. With or without Kilvas' help, the Empire will have you defeated and executed before the week is over, so I don't expect more than twenty casualties." He nodded grimly. "An acceptable loss, don't you think?"

"Ah, I remember," Elincia said and looked at the back side of the blood pact, where a series of numbers had been scrawled with black ink. "The Empire used the pact on you once, did they not?"

"On my predecessor," Naesala corrected her. "But yes, that's why I know how it works."

"Apparently, this incident gave you the impression that the only way the pact can kill people is by slow progression. But that impression is wrong." Elincia presented the back side of the document to Naesala, who narrowed his eyes to read the small characters written there.

"One, two, three, four..."

"And all the way to fifty," Elincia said. "You see, when the pact was first used, the Senators had the leasure to drive home their point slowly, increasing the death toll day by day. But the blood pact can be used to kill any number of victims at once."

"Nonsense," Naesala said. "It's a trick. You put those numbers there!" He was sounding very nervous now. "It's all a big bluff!"

"Very well," Elincia said, although nothing was well at all. "Let me prove to you that I am not bluffing." She picked up a writing quill from the table next to the throne and dipped it into a small glass of ink. Under the nervous gaze of Naesala, she wrote down a 'one' on the back side of the paper.

_Who is this 'one'? A young child? An old man? I will never know._

But of course one was not enough for a demonstration, and so Elincia put down a zero behind the one. _That's not enough, either. Ten people dying on one day, in an entire nation? Nothing out of the ordinary._

With a heavy heart, Elincia wrote down a second zero after the first, and then, for good measure, a third one. "I have just condemned a thousand Kilvans to death," she stated.

_It is done. It cannot be taken back. Not even if I tore apart the paper now._

_I have truly become a monster._

"Or so you say," Naesala said nervously, his forehead glistening with sweat. "But I have no reason to believe you without first returning to Kilvas and–"

He was interrupted by a hoarse, rasping sound, like the last breath of a dying man. Only when old Nealuchi dropped to the floor next to his king did Elincia realize that it had been just that.

"Nealuchi!" Naesala cried and dropped down next to his fellow Kilvan. "What's wrong?" He shook the old raven's limp body, but there was no reaction. "Open your eyes! Talk to me! Call me Nestling, damn it!"

"I would express my sympathy," Elinia said, "but I doubt you would want it."

"Shut up, you murderous bitch!" Naesala yelled, with not a hint of his former composure left. "You... he... he didn't..."

"He was but one of many," Elincia reminded him, trying not to think of the hundreds of women and children lying dead in the streets of Kilvas, chosen at random by the magic of the pact just as Nealuchi had been. "Do you still think I'm bluffing?" She raised her quill in the air, and drops of ink dripped to the floor like black blood. "Or should I kill another thousand?"

_Please don't make me repeat this, Naesala! Don't make me walk down this path any further! Submit! For both of our sakes!_

"No! No, please..." The Raven King clenched his fists and lowered his head, shaking with cold, but powerless fury. "What would you have Kilvas do, Your Highness?"

_Thank you... and forgive me_, Elincia thought. But it was not something she could say out loud. She had to play the part of the ruthless tyrant until the end – and was it really only playing, now that she had murdered a thousand innocents?

"You and your soldiers will fight alongside Crimean forces when we engage the Begnion Central Army," Elincia spoke to her new client king. "Consider it reparations for the damage you caused."

"If we make enough such... reparations," Naesala asked between clenched teeth, "will you consider destroying the pact?"

"I would not count on it," Elincia replied, loath to lie even under these circumstances. "But I will not use it again for as long as you remain obedient." She decided to let him have a little glimpse of her true feelings. "I have no wish to exploit your people," she said. "And I will only call upon you when Crimea is in most dire need of help."

"How very reassuring." Naesala's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure the Senator who made my predecessor sign this pact said the very same thing!"

_He doesn't believe me_, Elincia realized. _Of course not. Trying to be nice and friendly after killing one thousand of his people can only sound like blatant hypocrisy to him. No, worse... he must think that I'm mocking him._

There was no longer a way for Elincia to tell Naesala how she truly felt about all this, she realized. He would never again believe anything she said, or look for even the slightest sign of good will in her. He would obey her, but he would also hate her forever, and before long, his entire nation would share that hatred.

_I never wanted to be hated by anybody..._

"This audience is over," Elincia said sharply, afraid that she would burst into tears in front of Naesala. "Travel to Fort Pinell along with your soldiers and place yourself at the disposal of General Geoffrey."

"Yes, Your Highness," Naesala replied. "Or should I say 'mistress'?"

"You can call me whatever you wish," Elincia sneered. "I really liked 'murderous bitch', though. It has a nice ring to it." Her callousness was like a cool ointment on her burning heart, and in a way, she was only fulfilling Naesala's expectations of her. "Now be gone."

"As you wish." Naesala carefully picked up Nealuchi's dead body and carried it in his arms as he left. "I recommend that you keep a firm hold on that piece of paper, Your Majesty," he said upon reaching the door and kicking it open. "Safeguard it like you would your own life." He walked out of the door, kicked it shut behind him, and was gone.

_He will try to steal the pact or destroy it._ Elincia would have known that even without Naesala's veiled threat. _He can't make any overt moves, but if I ever make the slightest slip-up, I'm done for._

Elincia considered executing Naesala and replacing him with a less dangerous ruler, but it was a pointless idea: She was now the mortal enemy of the entire Raven tribe, and she preferred Naesala, whom she knew at least a little, to a completely unknown replacement.

With a weary sigh, Elincia put the blood pact back into the metal tube, trying not to look at the accusing 'one thousand' written on its backside. "You can relax now," she spoke to Bertram, who was still holding his sword in his hands. "He's gone."

"Yesss," the feral knight said. "A pity..."

"You would have loved nothing more than running him through," Elincia stated. "You would not have felt the slightest pang of guilt for killing him." Bertram said nothing, seeing no reason to confirm the obvious, and Elincia found herself wondering, against her better judgement, what it would like to be him.

_Actually, I don't really want to know..._

"Your Majesty." The door had been opened again, and a guard had entered the throne room. "Daein's supreme commander has just arrived. Shall I send her in?"

"Yes," Elincia said immediately. The conversation with the Maiden of Dawn would probably follow the same course as the one with Naesala, although she prayed that she would not have to make another 'demonstration'.

"Her majesty will see you now," the guard's voice reached Elincia. "Do not dawdle."

"Let's go," another male voice came from the antechamber. It belonged to a young man and somewhat familiar, but Elincia could not place it.

"No, Sothe, please wait outside," a young, female voice replied. "I want to talk to her alone."

_That must be her. But who is this Sothe? The name rings a bell, but..._

"If you really think it's for the best..." the young man said reluctantly.

"I do," the woman said. "Thank you." A moment later, she was standing in the open door, casting a suspicious look into the throne room. Her face and body made her look no older than sixteen, although her hair was white or silver, like that of an old woman. Her skin was pale and her clothes torn and dirty, and she looked like she had not slept in a while.

_So this is the one who leads the armies of Daein. The one who defeated Sir Ike._ She looked far too young for such exploits, but Elincia could not deny her accomplishments. _She, too, must not be underestimated._

"Come inside," Elincia said, her tone neutral. "You will not be harmed." _Unless you try to attack me, but that goes without saying._ The young woman nodded and slowly walked into the throne room, focusing on Bertram first, then on Elincia herself. She stopped at the white line without being told, took a deep breath and began to speak.

"We just met the King of Kilvas on our way here," she said without introduction. "He asked: 'Are you my fellow slaves?' And before we could answer, he said: 'Do not take that woman lightly, or it will cost you dearly'. Then he walked away, carrying the body of a friend, looking completely devastated."

"What a peculiar opening," Elincia said. "I trust that you will heed his advice, then?" She produced the Daein blood pact from the metal tube and held it in front of her. "Take a good look at this."

"So this is... the blood pact?" the Maiden of Dawn asked and almost stepped over the line. "This is the piece of paper that is responsible for all our suffering?"

"It is," Elincia said, "and it is authentic. It comes from the same place that Kilvas' pact came from." She looked at the backside of the document and found it empty. "It seems it has never been used, though. Daein should count herself lucky."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what we've been through," the Maiden whispered. "Do you know what it feels like to have the threat of death hanging over your entire nation? To be a slave to evil masters who would sacrifice you and everyone you love for their greed and lust for power?" She closed her eyes as she spoke, and seemed ready to collapse at any moment. "I know you must hate me for bringing war to your country, but please understand that I had no alternative. The Senate would have wiped out Daein to the last citizen!"

"I do not hate you," Elincia said calmly, and found that she sympathized with the young woman's plight. She knew what it felt like to be suddenly cast into a hopeless situation at a young age. "If I had been in your place, I might have done the same thing, Maiden of Dawn."

"My name is Micaiah," the young woman said. "I prefer it to that title."

"I bear no ill will against you personally, Micaiah," Elincia said truthfully. "Nor against your king, as long as he was only acting out of concern for his people when he sent you against Crimea."

"So you will... destroy the pact?" Hope colored Micaiah's voice, hope that Elincia quickly squashed. "No," she said, "I cannot do that. I need your soldiers to fight against Begnion, and your active cooperation."

"You can have that anyway!" Micaiah said. "We hate the Senate as much as you! If you destroy the pact, you'll have Daein's eternal gratitude, and–"

"Nothing is eternal," Elincia said. "I will not blame you for things that happened before your time, but I doubt 'gratitude' would have stopped Ashnard three years ago. The threat of total annihilation, on the other hand, would have given even a madman like him pause."

"But King Pelleas is nothing like his father!" Micaiah protested. "He is kind and trying very hard to do–"

"His best, I'm sure," Elincia said. "But he was also the one who signed this pact, willingly surrendering his nation to Begnion."

"But he didn't read it! His advisor told him to sign it, and that's what he did!"

"Then I'm afraid he has a lot to learn before becoming a proper king." Elincia shook her head in disbelief. This Pelleas must have been even more naive than she had been three years ago. "Even if he's well-meaning, it seems clear that he's easily manipulated by others. I cannot trust a king whom I have never met, and who seems to have little control over his own country. Therefore, I will keep the blood pact in my possession for the foreseeable future."

"Please reconsider," Micaiah begged and dropped to her knees. "King Pelleas has been torturing himself ever since he learned the true meaning of the blood pact! He's blaming himself for everything that happened. As long as the pact is not destroyed, I fear he will never sleep again."

"You're exaggerating," Elincia said dryly. "People who don't sleep eventually die."

"You just hate him because his father invaded your country and killed your parents!" Micaiah accused Elincia while she got back to her feet. "It's about revenge."

"Ridiculous." _How did we even get to this subject?_ "I have much more serious things to worry about than taking vengeance on a boy I've never met." She waved her hand dismissively in Micaiah's direction. "Further talking would be pointless, I think. You've seen the pact, and unless you want a demonstration like King Kilvas, you'll do what I tell you. And I'm telling you to return to your troops, make your way to Fort Pinell and report to General Geoffrey."

"Without their weapons?" Micaiah snarked. "Your precious General Ike disarmed us, you know."

"I've already sent him to Fort Pinell, where he will hand you back your weapons," Elincia said, refusing to be goaded by Micaiah. "And by the way, you should learn to be more respectful of Ike, seeing as you'll fight alongside him against the Central Army."

"Great. Just great." Micaiah shook her head in anger. "So the Raven King was right: We are his fellow slaves."

"Be thankful that you can at least speak frankly to me," Elincia told her. "If you had taken the same tone with a Begnion Senator, they would have executed you long ago."

"That's probably true, but the Senators are infamous all over Tellius for their evil and corruption, while it is said that Queen Elincia is just and noble ruler!"

"My father was a just and noble ruler," Elincia pointed out. "These things usually skip a generation." In response to her sneer, Micaiah only snorted derisively and walked out of the throne room.

_It really is easier this way_, Elincia thought after Micaiah had slammed the door shut behind her._ If people can't stand you, they don't expect good things from you. They're not disappointed in you and don't call you a hypocrite._

"This went surprisingly well, flaring tempers or not," Elincia said out. "Don't you agree, Bertram?"

"It isss as you sssay..."

"Now we have Daein, Kilvas and the Greil Mercenaries on our side. Enough to face the Central Army on an equal footing."

"There will be much ssslaughter..."

"Probably." Elincia would have preferred striking up a truce with the Empire, preferably after contacting Empress Sanaki directly. But Sanaki was dead, if Volke could be believed, and her trusted Prime Minister Sephiran imprisoned and probably awaiting execution. On the other hand, the Senate's ire toward Crimea must be greater than ever, since there could be little doubt who had arranged for Lekain's murder.

_I will send another messenger to Flaguerre and offer the Empire a peace treaty on equal terms_, Elincia decided, though she was far from optimistic. _If they don't accept, then I will do what I deem necessary._

Quickly and efficiently, Elincia took care of the few things left to do before her departure: She sent the messenger to Flaguerre and another to Geoffrey, informing him of her impending arrival. She notified her chamberlain and the captain of the guard that she would be gone for a while, and ordered the latter, an old and trustworthy servant of her father's, to lock the scroll tube with the blood pacts in the most secure vault of the palace. She also gave them instructions how to activate the pacts, in case she would be murdered or held hostage by one of her unvoluntary allies. Not long after the two men had left, she decided that everything was in order and rose from her throne.

"Follow me, Bertram," Elincia said. "We'll travel south and meet up with Geoffrey, Ike and the others. If the Empire does not back down, then I will lead our forces myself."

"You will inssspire my bloodlust," the black-clad knight hissed and fell in line behind his mistress. Soon after, the two of them had left the palace and were on their way to the southern border where the fate of Crimea would be decided.


	26. Sin and Punishment

**Chapter 26: Sin and Punishment**

It was quite a host that she had assembled, Elincia noted with no small amount of satisfaction, when she reached Fort Pinell and beheld the armies that had been deployed around its walls. Her own Crimean troops, mostly spearmen and axemen from the local militias; the Royal Knights, wearing heavy riding armor and sitting atop their white steeds; the forces of Daein, black-clad and awe-inspiring, awakening fearful memories in many a Crimean; the ravens of Kilvas, a bunch of unarmed, winged bandits who would transform into sharp-clawed warriors at a moment's notice; the volunteers from Gallia, who were the smallest group in numbers, but also the staunchest; and the Greil Mercenaries, a colorful, motley band of elite warriors, each of whom had the fighting power of two or three average soldiers.

_Not all of them are here willingly_, she thought as she rode through the fort's main entrance together with Bertram, _but they will all fight for Crimea. More than that, I do not need._

Elincia was greeted by a staff officer who told her that Geoffrey and the other troop leaders were awaiting her in the conference room. Along with Bertram, she dismounted and entered the main building of the fort, recalling its layout from her last visit three years ago.

_That was when Bertram was defeated, and spirited away by Bastian without my knowledge._ She looked over her shoulder at the black-clad knight behind her and wondered how he felt about revisiting the place of his defeat.

_He probably feels nothing at all, except his usual bloodlust. And he will have a chance to satiate it soon._

Elincia pushed through the doors into the conference room and saw that the leaders of her various armies had already been assembled, standing around a table that showed a map of the area. There were Geoffrey and Kieran; Ike and Titania (sporting a scarred face and an eye patch, to Elincia's surprise); Mordecai; Micaiah and a green-haired young man; and Naesala, the Raven King. As soon as she entered, all of their gazes turned toward Elincia, some of them favorable, others contemptuous. The only exception was Ike, who stared at the door as if the Black Knight himself had just entered the room

"Ike. You look as if you've seen a ghost," Elincia greeted him with an amused smile.

"Wh-what's he doing here?" Ike stuttered. "Why do all the people I kill come back?"

"It is a long story, and an altogether unpleasant one, too," Elincia replied, and quickly pushed the intruding memories of her uncle Renning away. "We have more important things to discuss. For now, it will suffice to know that Bertram is your ally."

"Our... ally." Ike narrowed his eyes and glared at his former enemy in open distrust. "That's not an easy thing to swallow."

"Things not being easy has never stopped you before," Elincia said. She walked around the table to join Geoffrey and Kieran, accidentally grazing Naesala's wings on the way, but she was confident in her knowledge that the Raven King would not dare to hurt her as long as the blood pact was in her possession.

"Forgive me for being in your way, Your Majesty," he said in a tone that was more sarcastic than servile. "But you're right where I want you to be," she replied, and noticed that both Geoffrey and Ike were giving her doubtful looks. Via her messenger, Elincia had informed Geoffrey about the basic workings of the blood pact, and Ike, too, must by now be able to infer how it worked. Judging by their expressions, neither of them seemed particularly comfortable with the idea of forcing others to fight for them. Geoffrey had an especially sour look on his face, and Elincia recalled how she herself had told him to watch and judge her actions.

_But he would never critizise me in front of everybody else, _she realized even as she joined his side and greeted him. _Not allowing him to voice his misgivings would be dishonest._

"If there is anything you wish to tell me in private, we can step outside right now," Elincia told Geoffrey, not even attempting to keep her voice down since everybody the room was listening to her anyway. "Anything at all. We have that much time."

But to her surprise, Geoffrey shook his head. "I know what you're concerned about," he said, "but I can clearly see the reasons that compelled you. If I appear ill-disposed, know that my discontent is directed at our cruel fate, not at you."

"Yes, let's all go and blame fate," Naesala spat. "That way, nobody is responsible for anything they do."

"I have a more tangible candidate for our blame," Elincia responded, but not before whispering an almost inaudible "Thank you" to Geoffrey. "That would be the Empire."

"So now the evil Empire is at fault? What a convenient scapegoat."

"Do not take that tone with her majesty!" Kieran bellowed at the Raven King, who gave him an amused glance in return. "I'm sorry, Your Highness," Geoffrey said to Elincia, "but he's been talking like this from the moment he arrived here."

"As long as his wit is the only thing that's cutting, let him be," Elincia replied. "I can't blame him for being angry at me." She dismissed the matter of the Raven King's ill temper and turned her attention to Mordecai. "I'm glad to see you alive and well. You and your comrades helped me buy valuable time, and saved the lives and homes of many of my people."

"We did not fight very much," came the tiger laguz' self-depreciating reply. "When we attacked the crows, they fled. When we chased them down, they fled again."

"It's called 'avoiding casualties', Gallian," Naesala hissed. "But it's probably too advanced of a tactical concept for you."

"Speaking of tactics, I'm surprised Soren isn't here," Elincia said in Ike's direction, intent on cutting short a possible argument among two of her allies. "Is he all right?"

"He was... injured during the fight against Daein," Ike replied and peered at Micaiah, who pretended not to notice it. "He'll be fine eventually, but right now he can barely walk."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Elincia said. "I gave you a difficult assignment, sending you against Daein without support." She glimpsed at Titania, who had not worn an eyepatch the last time she had seen her. "I understand that you suffered considerable losses."

"We're mercenaries," Ike shrugged. "That's our lot in life. Besides, Soren admitted that it was his fault for underestimating the fanaticism of Daein's forces."

"Tell him I said thanks for the backhanded compliment," Micaiah snapped from the other side of the table. "Perhaps the real reason he isn't here is because he doesn't want to work with me?"

"You're wrong," Ike replied with an angry glare. "Soren actually begged me to let him come with us, but I forbade it because of his condition. He's certainly not afraid of being in the same room as you."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Micaiah retorted. "From my own impression and from what Sothe told me, he's not exactly a well-adjusted individual."

_So that young man is Sothe,_ Elincia thought as she recognized the youthful thief from three years ago in Micaiah's companion. _He looks like he aged twice as much during that time._ But she did not have the leisure to exchange pleasantries with her former comrade, since a full-blown argument was erupting between Ike and Micaiah.

"Stop this, both of you," Elincia said sharply, and decided to address the undercurrent of hostilities between her allies once and for all. "I know that it must be hard for all of you to accept people as allies who fought and killed your friends only one or two days ago... particularly those of you who don't even want to be here." She looked at Micaiah, then Naesala, both of whom glared angrily back at her. _It is better that they direct their anger against me instead of each other_, she thought grimly. "The fact remains that Begnion is our common enemy, unless..." She looked questioningly at Geoffrey, who shook his head. "Your messenger returned from Flaguerre an hour ago," he said. "The enemy general says that he's bound by the orders of the Senate, and that he has no authority to negotiate with us."

"I was prepared for that outcome, though I had hoped for a better one," Elincia sighed, effecting a sneering laugh in Naesala, who clearly did not believe that her intentions were peaceful. "This means our course of actions is clear: We will take the initiative and strike against Flaguerre." She turned to Geoffrey who had been in the border region the longest, and was bound to be the most knowledgeable about size and strength of the Empire's forces. "Your assessment of the situation, please."

"Yes, Your Highness," Geoffrey replied formally. "Kieran here has led daily scouting parties to Flaguerre, so our intelligence is as up to date as possible." He pointed at the red circle on the map that represented the Imperial border fortress. "The entirety of the Central Army has been assembled in Flaguerre, along with auxiliaries and reinforcements from the local defense forces. They used to outnumber us pretty badly, but now that our... allies are here, our numbers are about even. Although we have the disadvantage that our forces are not exactly... homogeneous."

"That's a very nice way of putting it," Elincia said wryly.

"Our separate armies are not used to fighting alongside each other," Geoffrey elaborated. "Even if their commanders were to work well together, we still must expect frictions on an operative level. Therefore, I think it's best for our different nationals to fight largely on their own. Our strategy should reflect that."

"What you say makes sense," Elincia said; she could hardly expect her own men to suddenly trust the soldiers of Daein with their lives, considering that they had invaded their country twice in three years. "But isn't it dangerous to divide our forces?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes," Geoffrey nodded, "but it turns out the the Imperial forces are also divided." He pointed at the map again, directing everyone's attention at the two smaller red circles next to the larger one.

"Begnion's problem is that Flaguerre is much too small to hold the entirety of the Central Army," he said. "Two-thirds of their troops are camped outside its walls, split in two camps: One to the north, the other to the south of Flaguerre, with the core of the army situated inside the fort. They probably don't know about our reinforcements yet, so they shouldn't be expecting an attack. Our strategy involves attacking both encampments at the same time while preventing the rest of the soldiers from leaving the fort. That way, we will enjoy both numerical and tactical superiority on all fronts."

"If our strategy has already been determined, then why are why even here?" Micaiah asked scornfully. "Just to receive our orders?"

"Precisely," Elincia answered with a sneer that earned her a critical glance from Ike. "Although I will hear your helpful comments, should you have any."

"The plan is sound," Micaiah admitted grudgingly. "Now tell us where each of the separate armies will attack."

"We will approach Flaguerre from the north," Geoffrey began, "which means we need a fast units to circle around the fort and attack the southern camp. I had originally planned to send the Greil Mercenaries... but then I heard that they lost much of their cavalry." He looked reproachfully at Micaiah, who crossed her arms before her chest and raised her chin defiantly, but remained silent. "So I decided that the Royal Knights should attack the southern camp instead. Kieran will be leading the sortie."

"We have the longest distance to cross, but we will be the first to defeat our foe," Kieran exclaimed triumphantly, as if he had already won the day. "You can depend on us, Your Majesty."

"I'm sure she will." Geoffrey sighed. It was obvious that he did not care for the overly bold announcement of his second-in-command, but he did not want to undermine his optimism, either. "The forces of Daein will attack the northern camp head-on," he spoke in Micaiah's direction. "Because of their many armored knights and halberdiers, their speed is low, so they should attack the closest target." If he expected Micaiah to happily agree to her assignment, he was disappointed; instead, he took her sullen silence as confirmation.

"The Greil Mercenaries will position themselves in front of the main gate, which opens to the east," Geoffrey addressed Ike. "Your task is to keep the rest of the enemies inside Flaguerre. If we're lucky, their general will be trapped inside and unable to direct his forces personally."

"You can count on us," Ike said simply. Elincia had not expected anything else.

"There is a second gate that opens to the west," Geoffrey continued, "but it is much narrower and doesn't allow more than five men to pass through at once." He looked at Mordecai. "Even with your small numbers, you should be able to keep the enemy from leaving through the back door."

"Mordecai will block the gate himself," the tiger laguz replied. "No one will get past him."

"Excellent," Geoffrey nodded and turned to Naesala. "Your ravens will descend upon the fort from above and sow as much chaos and confusion as possible. Try to take out their officers, or even the general if you can. If you encounter heavy resistance, retreat and wait a short while before attacking a different spot."

"Hit-and-run attacks. My specialty," Naesala said and bowed in the direction of Elincia. "It will be done as your lapdog commands, mistress."

"Am I supposed to be insulted?" Geoffrey asked doubtfully, but Elincia only shook her head. "Let him say what he wants." Naesala was a king of his people and a prideful man, and if he needed to indulge in sarcasm and exaggerated servility to bear with his new lot in life, then that was fine with her. Micaiah, on the other hand, was mostly silent, with anger and resignation warring for supremacy inside her.

"The main forces of the Crimean army," Geoffrey concluded his briefing, "will wait a short distance north of Flaguerre, acting as reserves in case any of the separate armies need to be reinforced. Queen Elincia and myself will direct the battle from there. That is all."

"So that's how it is." Micaiah glared at Elincia. "You're sending Daein on a frontal assault while keeping your own people at a safe distance. You just want us to bleed for you!"

"You are out of line!" Kieran barked, still feeling obligated to defend his queen against any detraction. "Her majesty is acting with the greater good of all in mind!"

"If you need somebody to be angry with, direct your anger at me, Micaiah," Geoffrey said. "I came up with this strategy. Her majesty learned of it at the same time you did."

"What difference does it make? You're just doing what you think she would want."

"The same could be said for you and King Pelleas," Elincia remarked nonchalantly, and her remark served to push Micaiah from anger back to resignation. _She has very strong emotions_, the Queen of Crimea realized. _But that means she can be easily manipulated if she does not learn to control them._

"Then I take it that there are no substantial objections," Elincia said. "Any questions?"

"I have one." Ike stepped forward. "Who is the enemy commander?"

"We do not know that," Geoffrey replied. "It used to be General Zelgius, but..." He looked at Elincia, who gave him an approving nod. "General Zelgius is currently in our captivity."

"Seriously?" Ike frowned as if he was suspecting Geoffrey of a bad attempt at a joke. "Zelgius gave even us trouble. How did you manage to capture him?"

"Rest assured, we managed," Elincia answered in Geoffrey's stead. "Perhaps I'll share the story with you later, but not in front of everybody."

"How it pains me to be deemed so untrustworthy," Naesala sneered, but Elincia summarily ignored him. "If there are no more questions, you may all leave to instruct your officers and prepare your soldiers. When will the attack begin, Geoffrey?" she asked her general.

"Tomorrow at sunset. We will cross the distance to Flaguerre under the cover of the dark, then strike as soon as there's enough light to see."

"You heard him," Elincia said. "Tell your men to go to sleep early, so they're at full strength tomorrow morning."

Naesala, Micaiah and Sothe considered Elincia's words a dismissal, and wasted no time to leave the conference room; Naesala holding his head high, Micaiah with sagging shoulders and Sothe trying to cheer her up. Elincia wondered how the Maiden of Dawn would explain their sudden change of sides to her troops. Would she tell them about the blood pact, or were they loyal enough to follow her wherever she went even without an explanation? Naesala, on the other hand, would have no such difficulties, seeing as he basically ruled over a nation of mercenaries... then again, he might be sorely-pressed to tell his men why they would receive no pay.

_He must have a considerable personal fortune, so if he wants to maintain appearances, he can just pay them out of his own pocket._

"So, uh, could you explain the whole blood pact business to us now?" Ike addressed Elincia. "I understand it gives you some kind of hold over Daein and Kilvas," Titania added.

"Basically, it is a magic treaty that bound them to the will of the Empire," Elincia said, unwilling to give Ike anything more than the barebones version of what a blood pact was. "I managed to get my hands on the documents, which is why Daein and Kilvas obey my orders now."

"And..." Titania hesitated. "What will happen if they don't obey?"

"Something unpleasant, both to me and themselves," Elincia said evasively. "Let's leave it at that."

"Do we leave it at that?" Titania asked her commander.

"I suppose we should, for the moment." Ike scratched his head. "It's probably one of those cloak-and-dagger things royalty does all the time. And besides, we don't really have time for talking: We have to instruct our men about the battle strategy."

_Bless your single-mindedness, Ike. And I don't mean that in an insulting way. It's just that I really don't want you to know. Particularly about Nealuchi and the other Kilvans..._

"Then we'll be awaiting your orders, Geoffrey," Ike said and walked out of the door, followed by his deputy commander. Elincia found herself amazed that he could still act so trusting towards her, and decided that the impression she had made upon him three years ago was simply too strong to be overturned by her recent dubious actions.

"I must also go," Mordecai said. "Explaining complicated beorc strategy with growls will take some time."

"Are you sure you want to go?" Elincia asked. "When you first volunteered, Crimea needed all the help she could get... but now we have other allies. If your people wish to return to Gallia now, my gratitude will not be diminished in the least."

"I don't understand," Mordecai replied. "Do you think we will not make a difference?" If another person had asked this question, Elincia would have thought he was feeling slighted or even offended, but with Mordecai, it was merely an inquiry.

"That's not what I meant," she replied quickly. "But it's likely that some of your friends will die during the battle."

"We are warriors," Mordecai said simply. "We know about death." He hesitated for a moment. "And... I don't like your new allies. They are not very trustworthy."

"I have good reason to believe they won't betray us," Elincia said. "But enough of this. It's not like I don't want your help. Go to your men now, and tell them the Queen of Crimea is beyond grateful for their assistance."

"I will tell them," Mordecai said and departed, leaving only Elincia and Geoffrey in the conference room – and Bertram, but as far as privacy was concerned, he counted about as much as a chair. "I have to tell you something," she said, though she found it difficult to actually say it. "I'd rather you learn it from me than somebody else."

"Judging by your expression, it's not going to be a pleasant revelation," Geoffrey replied. "Are you sure it can't wait until later?"

"No... it'll only take a moment," Elincia said quickly and looked across the room to make sure there was nobody else to hear her. "I... I activated the blood pact on Kilvas, because Naesala thought I was bluffing."

"I see," Geoffrey said curtly. Elincia waited for him to ask 'How many?', but he did not ask.

"Is that all?" he inquired instead.

_It's because he doesn't want to know! But he has to._

"One thousand," Elincia blurted out. "I killed one thousand of his people just to show him I was serious!"

"I... I'm sure you thought it was necessary," Geoffrey stuttered. He had clearly not expected that high a number, and his shock was plainly visible to Elincia. "You think I went too far," she said. "You think I killed too many!"

"Nonsense!" Geoffrey protested and seized her hands. "This isn't about numbers! Don't tell me you wouldn't be feeling just as bad if you had killed only five hundred, or one hundred."

"So killing one innocent is the same as killing one thousand?"

"From the victim's perspective, yes," Geoffrey asserted. "Each of them only died once. Remember that."

"But this isn't about the victims!" Elincia cried out.

"That's what I suspected," Geoffrey said and made a step toward his queen. "This is about you. You want to feel bad about this. You have the need to punish yourself."

"Of course I need to feel bad about it! Otherwise, how would I be different from–"

"Stop comparing yourself to Ashnard for a moment and tell me this: How does your feeling bad help anybody?"

"It doesn't," Elincia admitted reluctantly. She wanted to shake off Geoffrey's hands, but found that she could not. "So you think I still haven't turned evil?"

"Oh, Elincia." Geoffrey sighed and shook his head. "I think you misunderstood me when I promised you I'd watch and judge you."

"W-What do you mean by that?"

"I am not the perfect arbiter of right and wrong," Geoffrey explained gently. "Nobody is. I can only judge you by my own standards... and who is to say they're any better than yours? In fact, they might be worse."

"Don't talk nonsense, Geoffrey," Elincia said. "You're more virtuous than–"

"Stop putting me on a pedestal," he interrupted her. "I've done things I wouldn't want you to know about, too. None of them earth-shattering," he assured her quickly, "but nothing to be proud of, either." He paused for a moment, looking for the right words to say in a delicate moment like this. "You convinced yourself you're the most horrible person in the world, and at the same time, that I'm the most virtuous one. But that just isn't realistic. As I said, I have my own moral standards, and I will continue to judge you by them," Geoffrey renewed his promise. "But you may find that they are more similar to your own than you had expected."

"So you admit to bias?" Elincia asked. It was not a suitably serious thing to say in this situation, but the words had somehow slipped past her lips. "Guilty as charged," Geoffrey replied with a grin. "Will you dismiss me now?"

"Oh no," Elincia said and smiled gently. "If I can't have a perfect arbiter, then I'll take the next best."

"I may not even be the next best."

"Who are you to judge that?"

"Caught in my own net," Geoffrey nodded. "I salute you, Elincia." His expression turned more serious again. "Now let me tell you what I think about those one thousand dead Kilvans."

"Y-Yes... What do you think?"

"Rather than good or evil, I think our actions have to be measured and proportionate. You had to make Naesala believe you were willing to wipe out his entire nation, correct? If so, then one hundred of five hundred might not have been enough. Ten thousand, on the other hand, would probably have been too many. There is no perfect number that would have placed you straight on the dividing line between good and evil, because that line doesn't exist. But I think you picked the right order of magnitude."

"Order of magnitude?" Elincia asked. "That seems like a cold way to put it."

"We are truly cut from the same cloth," Geoffrey mused. "But enough of this! We have a battle to fight, and knowing you, you'll charge in with your staff the moment the first soldier gets wounded, so you can't allow yourself to be distracted. In fact, I forbid you to be distracted."

"And if I disobey?" Elincia asked playfully.

"Why, that would be treason, of course." His reply made her laugh out loudly – the first thing to make her do so in several days. "Oh, Geoffrey," she sighed and squeezed his hands, "I love you." A split second later, she realized what she had said and turned pale. "Uh... I mean..." She withdrew her hands from his and made a step backward. "Forget that last part."

"No, I won't," Geoffrey replied earnestly. "I will not forget it. You're the queen, and even though you've made me a duke, you may one day have to marry a more powerful noble for political reasons. I understand that and accept it as one of the many things you must do even though you do not want to do them." He gave her a longing, yet somehow detached look "But I will never forget your words just now. In fact, I will treasure them for as long as I live."

"I... I see," Elincia stuttered, suddenly very eager to escape the room. She wanted to throw herself in Geoffrey's embrace and find some comfort in his arms, but she could not: She had destroyed the happiness of too many people to be allowed happiness of her own. But that was not something she could say to Geoffrey, because he would just tell her that she was punishing herself again.

_It is a punishment I deserve_, Elincia told herself. _Even if I have good reasons for all the evil things I do, I must pay _some _sort of price. Otherwise there'd be no justice in this world._

"I'm glad you understand, Geoffrey," she said out loud. "I... I have to go now. We'll see each other once the battle begins."

"Yes, we will," Geoffrey replied solemnly, and before he could say something else, Elincia left the conference room with Bertram following on her heels. As she hurried through the hallways of Fort Pinell, walking in the shadow of the black-clad figure, Elincia realized that right now, she almost preferred the presence of Bertram the monster to Geoffrey the man.

_What's wrong with me that I have to run away from the man I love?_ she asked herself and began to cry softly.

Unsurprisingly, Bertram did nothing to comfort her.


	27. The Battle of Flaguerre

**Chapter 27: The Battle of Flaguerre**

For several days now, no word from Sienne had reached the massive army stationed in and around Flaguerre, as if the border fortress had been completely cut off from the rest of the Empire. True to his orders given by Vice-Minister Lekain, General Levail had kept the soldiers busy with daily drills while waiting for the attack order. But so far, that order had not been given, and he was beginning to feel that his men were losing their edge, rising every day with the expectation of an attack that might never happen. Not that there was anything to be done about it: The Senate strongly disapproved of unauthorized actions by its generals, relieving or even executing all who showed a dangerous amount of independence, and Levail preferred to keep his head on his shoulders. When he rose this morning, as he always did, a few minutes before sunrise, he was expecting yet another day of exhausting, but ultimately unsatisfying exercises.

However, as soon as the first rays of the sun touched Fort Flaguerre, his expectations were proven wrong.

"Attack! We're under attack!"

"It's the Crimean army!"

"No! It's Daein!"

"They have sub-humans! Flying sub-humans!"

For a few precarious minutes, the entire Central Army was on the verge of a panic, but the senior officers quickly got their soldiers under control and in battle order. Knowing better than to run outside Flaguerre to look at the enemy, Levail quickly made his way to the command post in the middle of the fortress, trying to get a mental hold on the situation. All his exercises had been designed to prepare his forces for an attack against Crimea, not a defense of Flaguerre! What about Vice-Minister Lekain's boasts that his 'allies' would distract the Crimean army?

_His vaunted allies are on the side of the enemy!_ _I should have known better than to place my trust in the words of a Senator..._

Levail reached the command post and was greeted by his staff officers, who informed him that the enemy was attacking both camps outside the walls at the same time. They were also blocking both gates, preventing the soldiers inside Flaguerre from joining their beleaguered comrades. The command staff was completely cut off; the only means of communication consisted of soldiers shouting commands from the walls – far from an efficient method, Levail thought. Other than that, the soldiers in the encampments were on their own, defending themselves to the best of their abilities, but without central leadership.

"We have to get our men outside and reinforce the troops before they get pressed against the wall," Levail decided quickly. "We have to break through the main gate, and fast!"

"What about the east gate?" an officer asked.

"Forget about it," Levail said with a dismissive gesture. "It's much too small to be any good. In fact, barricade it so the enemy can't use it to infiltrate the city."

"Yes, Sir."

"Once you've broken through the gate, join the troops in the north, since they're facing the main host of the enemy. The ones in the south will have to manage for the time being."

"Yes, Sir."

"Also, send a pegasus rider to warn Mugill, so they can prepare themselves for an attack in case we don't win through."

"But general, there's no way we can–" A whooshing sound cut off the officer's protest, and a black figure dropped out of the sky behind him, burying its beak in the back of the man's neck and effecting a horrified scream. It took Levail only a heartbeat to recognize who or what had killed his officer.

_Crows!_

Levail immediately drew his lance – a one-of-a-kind weapon the blacksmith had named 'Wishblade' – and thrust it through the torso of the slain officer into the chest of the raven who had killed him. The laguz' triumphant cry turned into a surprised croak as it died a completely unexpected death.

"We're under attack!" Levail yelled as several more black shapes descended from the sky upon the command post, attacking his surprised staff officers with claws and beaks. Somebody should have been watching the sky, but there was no time to assign blame: He and his lieutenants had to defend themselves against what was a well-aimed decapitation strike.

"General, you have to flee!" an officer shouted at Levail, who was struggling to pull his lance not out of one, but two bodies. "No way!" he shouted as he yanked his lance repeatedly. "I'll just be easier prey if I try to run." He managed to dislodge his lance from the chest of the dead man and raised it above his head. "Form up," the general ordered his officers. "Fight back to back! We won't lose another man to these scavengers!"

But even as Levail impaled another crow during its descent – there were a dozen of them now, circling no higher than fifteen feet above – he knew that every second he and his officers spent fighting like common soldiers was a second they were not giving orders, not coordinating the battle outside. Had the order to break through the main gate even reached the troops? Levail had no idea, and he did not have the time to inquire: A raven larger than any of the others had marked him and was darting toward him from above, its lethal talons poised to tear into any exposed flesh they could find.

_This one is big. Must be their leader._

With a deafening shriek, the large raven attacked Levail, but its claws met armor, not flesh. Even so, the sheer force of its impact almost sent the general flying and falling on his back, had he not used the butt of his lance to support himself. Spinning around on the spot, Levail took a stab at his attacker, but it had already gained enough height to be out of his range.

_Most of them are not as stupid as the one I killed earlier_, Levail thought. _They're not going to land, they'll just keep swooping down on us until–_

There was a low, whirring noise, followed by the a shrill caw, and a second later, a dead crow dropped out of the sky right before Levail with the feathered shaft of an arrow sticking out if its chest. The general turned into the direction of the shooter just in time to witness a platoon of Imperial bowmen unleash a barrage into the sky. Two more ravens fell to the ground, dead or dying, and several more were wounded and struggling to stay airborne before the group of crows dispersed in all directions

"General Levail!" the leader of the archers yelled. "General! Are you all right?"

"Yes," Levail replied, "thanks to you and your men." He turned to his second-in-command, who fortunately was still alive. "What are our losses?"

"Four, maybe five," the man replied. "But none of them in key positions." Levail believed he heard hints of disdain in his voice: The highest ranks of the Imperial army were permeated with young nobles who wanted to see war without actually going out and fighting it, filling useless positions created to keep them from doing anything actually dangerous. The fact that some of them had been killed would greatly infuriate their families, who would place the blame on Levail and try to have him punished. Right now, however, the combined enemy armies attacking Flaguerre from all sides were a more serious threat than a couple of irate nobles, and Levail focused only on them.

"What about the breakout through the main gate?" he asked his second. "Did the order reach the troops?"

"Yes. The captain got away just before the crows attacked."

"Good," Levail said, although he resented the fact that he would have to wait for a messenger now, to bring news about success or failure. The main gate was almost a mile away from the command post, and the view blocked by the many buildings of the large fortress city. Levail had earned his generalship by leading from the front, and it irked him to be stuck far away from the fighting. Flaguerre was too big for its own good – there was no way for a commander at the center of the city to get a good view over the action going on outside.

_As soon as a successful breakout is confirmed, I'll join the troops outside the walls_, Levail decided. _This is no way to lead an army. I feel like a blind man!_

Ten minutes later, Levail's misgivings were compounded by the news that the attempted breakout had been stopped in its tracks. The enemy at the main gate, a small unit flying no national flag, had blocked the way outside by laying carpets of burning tar and killing all Begnion soldiers who tried to slip through the gaps. A simple, but extremely effective strategy, Levail had to admit even as he cursed the enemy for its resourcefulness.

_Now I'm not just feeling trapped inside here, I _am_ trapped!_

Levail considered the possibility of breaking through the west gate, but even if they managed to chase away the laguz blocking it, the gate was much too narrow to let his forces leave Flaguerre in any reasonable time frame. There had to be a better, faster way...

"What happened to my request for siege weapons?" Levail asked the fort's armament officer, following a sudden inspiration. "The ones I planned to use against Fort Pinell?"

"What?" The older officer stared at his general for a second, no doubt wondering how siege weapons were going to help them in their current predicament. "They arrived yesterday, Sir, while you were out conducting exercises. I meant to tell you, but–"

"Excellent," Levail said with a wave of his hand, cutting off a time-consuming excuse. "They're supposed to be the latest breakthrough in engineering. Let's find out just how useful they are."

"Not very useful at all, in our current situation." The officer frowned. "Even if we could get them outside the city, there's no wall to use them against!" His frown deepened as his general smiled at him. "You don't mean..."

"Oh yes, I do," Levail said. "Deploy those siege weapons at the north wall immediately! If there's no way out of this fortress, then we'll make one."

"B-But Sir! A fortress with a breech in its walls... well, it wouldn't be much of a fortress anymore."

"If two-thirds of our troops are wiped out while we're sitting here twisting our thumbs, we won't have much of a Central Army anymore!" Levail retorted.

"That's correct," his second-in-command piped in. "But can it be done in time to make a difference?"

"As one might expect, the walls have only been hardened toward the outside," Levail explained. "Breaking them down from the inside is definitely possible." He raised his palm, cutting off yet another question. "No time for debating! See to it that it is done immediately!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"You!" Levail addressed another officer. "Send word to the men at the main gate and have them assemble at the north wall immediately! Leave only a small force behind to defend the gate itself."

"Yes Sir!"

"If I may say so, Sir, your plan is quite radical," Levail's second-in-command said with an approving nod. "Most other Imperial generals would just write off the troops outside and try to hold the fort while waiting for reinforcements."

"With the better part of the Empire's military might here in Flaguerre, we wouldn't have much to expect in terms of reinforcements," Levail reminded him. "We cannot allow the Central Army to be decimated. We'll have to save our comrades and take the fight to the enemy." He picked off his helmet that had rolled under a table during the ravens' assault and put it on. "I'll meet the troops at the north wall and join them on the battlefield," he said as he grabbed his Wishblade with one hand and an Imperial battle standard with the other. "You are in charge here. Try to keep me informed as best as you can."

"Yes, Sir!" Levail's second shouted and saluted. Far from protesting his general taking the field, he openly approved of it. "Good luck."

"Thank you," Levail replied and navigated the narrow streets of Flaguerre toward the north wall, preparing his heart and mind for the fighting that lay ahead. For him, the battle was about to begin in earnest.

* * *

Everything was proceeding as planned, Elincia thought as she watched the battle unfold from her position half a mile north of Flaguerre. Daein's forces were engaging the northern camp, a moving wall of black steel and long spears. The Royal Knights under Kieran were out of sight, attacking the second camp on the far side of Flaguerre, hopefully with the same success as their allies in the north. Ike's and Mordecai's forces were keeping the core of the Central Army trapped inside the walls, and Naesala's ravens were circling above the city, diving down occasionally to attack while evading arrow fire.

"Your plan seems to be working nicely," Elincia said to Geoffrey. Both of them were mounted and ready to join combat at a moment's notice along with the main body of the Crimean army, while Bertram had joined the Daein forces with his queen's permission, no doubt enjoying the bloodshed more than any other man on the battlefield.

"No battle plan survives contact with the enemy," Geoffrey said without taking his eyes off the fighting. "Our opponents have minds of their own, and they will do their best to turn our plan against us. That's why we must be vigilant until victory is assured."

"I know that," Elincia said dryly. "I was just trying to praise you."

"Praise me once the fighting has stopped, not before," Geoffrey said curtly, as tense as ever during a battle. So focused was he on the clashing of armies before them that he did not even realize how rude his words had sounded, but for Elincia, that was just as well: At least this way, he would not get flustered and apologize.

_He's absolutely correct_, she thought. _The battle has only gone for twenty minutes, and the tides of war can turn quickly. He's the commander of this army, moreso than myself. I shouldn't distract him._

"Something's going on," Geoffrey suddenly said, looking in the distance with narrowed eyes. Elincia followed his gaze, but saw nothing particularly unusual: Daein's forces were still pushing hard against the Begnion defenders, who were now being driven against the northern walls of Flaguerre...

_The walls!_

"There's a breach in the walls!" Elincia cried out, bending forward in the saddle to take a negligibly closer look. Even as she spoke, another portion of the wall collapsed, opening a second breach not far from the first one. "But we don't have any siege weapons!"

"And I wouldn't have ordered their use even if we had any, because our whole strategy is based on keeping part of the enemy trapped inside," Geoffrey exclaimed. His words were immediately followed by a sharp gasp, and he turned to Elincia sporting a look of startling realization. "They're breaking down the walls from the inside!"

"But that's–"

"Very possible," Geoffrey cut her off, "as you can see." Elincia watched in amazement as the entire section of the wall between the two breaches began to crumble, resulting in a gap about a hundred feet wide. "I should have expected this," Geoffrey admonished himself even as he called out several commands to the soldiers behind them. "It's the best course of action the enemy could have taken."

"There'll be time to berate yourself later," Elincia said. The section of the wall had come down completely, and thousands of Begnion soldiers came climbing over the debris, pouring onto the battlefield and reinforcing their relieved comrades. "We have to react. Quickly!" Elincia's sharp words were intended more for her own benefit than Geoffrey's, who was already busy organizing a counterattack: She had to shake off her shock, and fast.

_This is unexpected, but not a disaster_, she calmly told herself. _We still have thousands of Crimean soldiers in reserve. We can still win._

"Your Majesty," Geoffrey said, "we must commit our reserves to action now, and reinforce Daein's troops, or else they'll be overrun by the enemy. Allow me to take the lead while you stay behind and–"

"You are free to take the lead," Elincia interrupted her general – he had studied military tactics, after all, and was a better commander than her – "but I'll join the fight at your side. No arguments."

"As if we have time for that," Geoffrey said wryly. "But please do not take to the sky. Other than the ravens, we have no flyers to shield you, and I trust Naesala as far as I can throw him."

"Bird laguz are lighter than you think," Elincia said in a lecturing tone. "But you're right." Since taking a pegasus into ground combat was just asking to get its wings injured or even cut off, she quickly slid off of Atlas' back and mounted the brown steed waiting next to him. "You're lucky," she told the old pegasus. "You'll get to sit this one out." As if he had understood her words, Atlas responded with a relieved snicker, which made Elincia smirk. Then she remembered that she was about to ride into battle, which was as far from a laughing matter as could be, and sobered immediately.

_I have to concentrate on staying alive, and keeping those around me alive. _That was what Elincia always told herself before battle, and so far, it had served her well enough. She checked that both her sword and staff were attached firmly to her belt – she was used to rapidly switching between both in the heat of battle – when her hand touched the pouch containing Lehran's Medallion, which she was still carrying with her wherever she went.

The pouch was warm to her touch, and it vibrated slightly, as if it contained a living, beating heart. The sensation gave Elincia pause, and she wondered whether this battle might bring about the revival of the dreaded dark god. If she and Geoffrey joined the fighting along with the Crimean army, the intensity of the battle would greatly increase, as would the number of the dead on both sides. Could she gamble the fate of the entire continent just to save Crimea?

_It's a large battle, but there have been larger ones_, Elincia decided. _Most of Gallia's and all of Phoenicis' armies are absent. And if we emerge victoriously from this encounter, we'll cut the war short before it can spread across the entire continent._

"I will not allow you to threaten the world again," she whispered almost inaudibly, addressing the dark god inside the medallion, whether he could hear her or not. "But I will also not allow Crimea to suffer anymore. I can achieve both of these things. Just watch me."

"Your Majesty?" Geoffrey must have heard her after all. "Is there a problem?"

"There are many problems, but none we can't overcome together," Elincia smiled at him and firmly seized the reins of her horse. "Are we ready to go?"

"Yes," Geoffrey replied, and his queen nodded, prompting him to give the order. "We move out now!" he yelled and, after a short pause, added: "You may still find it hard to believe, but Daein is our ally in this battle. We will relieve them and drive the Imperial army back into Flaguerre!" A dissatisfied murmur arose among the Crimean soldiers, who had little love for their Daein counterparts, but Geoffrey did not allow it to ferment into something more.

"We will do what is necessary to defend our homeland," he shouted. "For Crimea! For Elincia!" With that, he raised his lance above his head and spurred his horse, and Elincia followed at his side. Carefully controlling the speed of their horses so that they would not outpace their army of foot soldiers, the general and his queen rode into battle.

* * *

"The enemy has torn down part of the northern wall, and is combining their might with the forces of the northern camp," Titania reported to her commander, having just received a reconnaissance report. "The Crimean soldiers are charging to meet them and reinforce Daein's troops." She shook her head in disbelief. "Crimea fighting side by side with Daein... I still find it hard to accept."

"But it's the truth," Ike replied, "thanks to Elincia's secret machinations." Although he did not know the details about the mysterious blood pacts that bound Daein and Kilvas to Elincia's will, it was clear to him that both Micaiah and Naesala were fighting under some sort of threat bot massive and credible. And while he was uncomfortable with Elincia using coercion, Ike could not deny that without such methods, he would now be a prisoner of Daein, and Crimea probably already conquered and absorbed into the Begnion Empire.

_Right now, I can't tell whether she's doing the right thing or not_, he decided. _And even if she isn't, this is not the time to worry about this! We're in the midst of battle, after all._

The Greil Mercenaries had taken position just outside Flaguerre's main gate, and were blocking it using carpets of burning tar. Thick clouds of black smoke were rising into the sky, forcing Ike and his men to keep a small distance, but they were still close enough to prevent any desperate attempt at an outbreak. But such an outbreak was unlikely to happen, now that the enemy had found another way to leave their fortress.

Ike considered abandoning his position of now dubious strategic value and move along the wall to the north and attack the Imperials pouring out of the city from the side. He decided against it, however, not only because Elincia and Geoffrey were already on their way along with the Crimean army, but also because he wished to avoid fighting side by side with Daein unless absolutely necessary. It was not that he did not trust Micaiah – her obedience to Elincia seemed absolute – but there was bound to be bad blood between the two armies who had been viciously killing each other less than two days ago. And besides, the Greil Mercenaries worked best when they were alone and unburdened by a larger allied force.

"We're going inside," Ike announced loudly and pointed his sword at the gate obscured by smoke. "We'll attack the enemy command post, sow chaos behind their lines and destroy their supplies."

"Have you lost it completely?" Shinon's voice sounded from nearby. "I'm not walking through fire!"

"You don't have to," Ike replied without undue excitement and addressed the old sage who was currently commanding the company's mages. "You can put out the fires with wind and ice spells, correct?"

"Easily," the old man replied and turned to his fellow magic wielders. "You heard the commander! Put out those fires!" He and the other mages opened their tomes, and seconds later, torrents of wind and waves of frost assaulted the flames that blocked the way into Flaguerre.

"Put that tome away right now, Soren!" Mist's voice sounded behind Ike. "My brother told you not to exert yourself!"

"Don't tell me what to do," Soren replied, the usual arrogance in his weakened voice. "I'll just cast a spell or two to help put out the fires."

"No, you won't!"

Ike turned around just in time to watch Mist turn around in the saddle of her horse and strike the magic tome out of Soren's hand. The green book fell down and landed in the dirt, causing its owner to glare at Mist, as if he was about to throw her off the horse the two of them shared.

"Soren!" Ike cried out, drawing the attention of his friend away from his sister. "I allowed you on the battlefield under the condition that you don't move so much as a finger."

"That's what I told him," Mist pointed out with a gleeful smile. "But since it's coming from you, I bet he'll listen."

"I was just trying to help," Soren defended himself. "I wouldn't have fainted because of a small spell or two."

"That's not up to debate," Ike said and raised his voice. "Do you know how lucky you are to be alive? Do you want to damage your health permanently?" He scowled deeply. "And you're not even holding on to Mist as I told you!"

"I'm not a child, Ike," Soren began, but Ike interrupted him. "No, but you're under my command. Now put your hands around her and stay put! If you try to cast another spell, I'll have her take you back to Fort Pinell immediately."

"I _can't_ cast another spell," Soren replied sourly, "because someone struck my tome out of my hands." In spite of his haughty words, he reluctantly wrapped his arms around Mist's waist (which seemed to make both sides uncomfortable) and lowered his head. "I'll be good now," he growled, but his sarcasm did not affect Ike. He rarely ever dressed his men down like this, but felt perfectly justified this time, not only because of Soren's condition, but also because they were in the middle of a battle. Although the Greil Mercenaries were not currently engaged with the enemy, that could change at any moment, and as much as he appreciated Soren, Ike could not allow himself to be distracted by his friend's willfulness at a crucial moment.

"The flames are out," the old sage reported to Ike, who had turned his back to him to deal with Soren (so much about not being distracted by his antics). "The ground is still hot, though. Best to cross it fast."

"Good work," Ike nodded. "Quick, too." He pretended not to hear Soren's muttered remark that they would have been even faster with his help. "We'll enter Flaguerre now," he announced loudly. "It's not been that long since we last attacked this place, so you should still be familiar with the layout. But we're not trying to hold it this time, so smash everything that might be of value to the enemy." He turned to face those standing behind him. "Titania, you and the rest of the cavalry hold this position." He said that in part because some of the narrow streets of Flaguerre hindered the movement of horses severely, but also because he feared that Titania was not yet used to fighting with only one eye. Fortunately, she seemed to share his unspoken reasoning and did not protest. "Good luck, commander," she said instead.

"Mist, you watch over Soren," Ike addressed his sister. "I want you to bolt at the first sign of trouble and bring him to Fort Pinell."

"You can count on me," Mist replied. "I'll knock him out and tie him to the saddle if I have to."

"That won't be necessary," Soren said behind her, his tone anxious at the prospect of such humiliation. "I'll behave." He looked at his commander with strangely sorrowful eyes. "Don't die, Ike."

"That'll be the day," the commander of the Greil Mercenaries growled. He had no intention on dying until he was at least as old as his father had been. "Follow me," he called out to his men. "We're going in."

Leading the way into the fortress city, jumping over the cooling tar (which was still uncomfortably hot, as the sage had warned), Ike was the first to reach the open gate. With most of the Imperial soldiers streaming through the gap in the north wall, the main entrance was guarded only by a small force of halberdiers. Ike cut several lances thrust at him in two and decapitated one of their wielders with a savage, two-handed strike. Another guard fell with one of Shinon's crossbow bolts piercing his throat, and two others were impaled on Gatrie's greatlance. Within seconds, all the soldiers at the gate were dead, and the way into Flaguerre was open.

"We'll split into three groups," Ike decided on the spot. "Mia will lead the first group and scour the southern part of the city. Shinon, will take the second and do the same with the northern half. I'll lead the third group into the center to find the enemy general."

"Be careful, boss," Mia cautioned him. "The last time you tried that, it backfired badly."

"Let the gloryhound do what he wants," Shinon sneered. "We'll do the hard work. Come on," he waved at Gatrie, "get a move on."

"I swear... one day... I'll become a mage," Gatrie said as he ran after his friend, his breath already heavy. "With a nice, light robe... and no heavy armor..."

"You're too dense to be a mage," Shinon laughed at this empty threat as his group turned a corner and vanished out of Ike's sight. "I really mean it," Mia said earnestly before departing with her group. "Don't do anything reckless!"

"Just because recklessness failed me once doesn't mean it's suddenly a bad idea," Ike retorted. "Everybody gets unlucky now and then. And I'll make sure to dodge enemy magic this time. Now go!"

"Right. See you later, boss," Mia said and led her men down a southern street. "Follow me," Ike told the remaining mercenaries and led the way toward the center of Flaguerre. The city's streets were almost completely empty; more proof that all available soldiers were being funnelled through the gap in the wall, and the few soldiers they encountered fled at the sight of the Greil Mercenaries.

Five minutes and not a single engagement later, Ike and his men arrived in the central square of the fortress city, and found that it was indeed the site of the enemy command post. Without hesitation he led the charge against the enemy officers, who were dumbstruck by the sudden assault within the assumed safety of the walls. It was only when one of them yelled a command in a loud, authoritative voice that they drew their weapons and met Ike's men in combat.

Most of the Imperial officers used ornate short swords, wielding them more like fencing sabers than actual weapons of war, which led Ike to believe that they had never been in a real combat situation. But their blades were just as sharp as those of veterans, and neither Ike nor his men could afford holding back even though they clearly outmatched their enemies. Many enemy officers died with an expression of utter surprise on their faces, indicating that they had judged their own skill more highly than it actually was, and it was not long before the survivors offered their surrender, which Ike gladly accepted.

"You fought your best," he said, addressing the man who had shouted several orders during the battle and who had come close to landing a hit on him several times during their duel. "Are you the general of this army?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" the man spat. "But I'm only the second-in-command. General Levail is out there, leading our forces in glorious combat against the enemies of the Empire!"

"Then he's a better soldier than I expected," Ike said. "So you were only decoys?"

"Oh no, most of these blue-blooded children surely fancied themselves important officers," the vice commander said, his tone openly disrespectful. "But a good general only needs a couple of reliable men to lead an army."

"I actually agree with you," Ike said, trying not to sound too friendly, for he relied almost exclusively on Titania and Soren to manage and lead his company. "But this is no time to exchange pleasantries. You are our prisoners now."

"Of course," the Imperial officer nodded. "But General Levail will not be so easily defeated as us."

"Levail, huh? I hope I'll learn first-hand just how good he is."

"By all means, general of Crimea. Go and seek him out."

"We're not with the Crimean Army," Ike said almost automatically. "We're the Greil Mercenaries."

Hushed, frightened whispers arose among the surviving officers. "I see," the second-in-command said. "Then I presume I had the honor of fighting against General Ike?"

"Just Commander now," Ike said quickly. Ever since the end of the Mad King's War, he had become famous all over the continent, inspiring both admiration and fear in many. It irked him a bit that so many people who had never met him were having an opinion of him, but there was no helping it: He was a figure, if not of legend, then at least of awed campfire stories.

"Lead the prisoners outside, to Titania," Ike told one of his men. "Elincia will decide what to do with them."

"Yes, commander," the mercenary replied and took just enough men with him to prevent the disarmed officers from fleeing. "Move, you lot!" Happy to at least retain their lives, they complied. As he watched the beaten and bloodied men walk away with their heads lowered, Ike considered his next move. Should he follow General Levail through the breach in the wall and try to face him in single combat? No, he was probably already on the front line fighting against Daein and Crimea, and if Ike and his men appeared at the rear of his army, they would have to fight their way through literally tens of thousands of Imperial soldiers to get to him. Not a very appealing prospect even for an elite mercenary force.

From one instant to the next, a dark shadow fell over Ike. He raised his head immediately and found that it belonged to a large, black raven that was floating down from the sky toward the command post. Weary of this new arrival, Ike made a few steps backward and held his sword in hand when the raven landed and transformed before him. As he had guessed from his imposing size, it was Naesala himself.

"If it isn't the blue-haired wonder," the Raven King said, his voice as snide and casually insulting as during yesterday's strategy briefing. "I'm on your side, you know," he added with a nod toward Ike's sword, "so you can stop pointing that thing at me."

"Which side would you be on if you had a choice?" Ike asked out of curiosity.

"Why, the one that paid more, naturally," Naesala replied. "But as you so subtly implied, I do not have a choice." The corpse of one of the Imperial officers caught his eye, and he darted toward it faster than Ike would have expected, picking up something from the man's body. "What are you doing?" Ike asked suspiciously.

"Scraping together my pay, of course," the Raven King answered and dangled a golden chain before Ike's face. "It seems like such an effiminate thing, for a soldier to wear jewelry... maybe it was a gift from his sweetheart?" He shrugged. "At any rate, he won't be needing it anymore, so spare me your overly critical glare."

"You shouldn't steal from the dead," Ike said simply. It was something his father had taught him early, and it was a long-standing, though unwritten rule among the Greil Mercenaries.

"Why not?" Naesala asked. "They are _dead_, you know?" With a condescending grin, he brought his face close to Ike's. "Or maybe you're just uncomfortably reminded of your own mortality when you see the dead being plundered, hm?"

"Your face is way too close," Ike said calmly while answering Naesala's stare. After a few seconds, the Raven King shrugged and made several steps backward.

"If you really want us to stop this... and by us, I mean every one of my men, who in the absence of orders are picking this place clean... then go and tell your precious Queen Elincia to pay us."

"Is this why you're so angry at her?" Ike asked – it had been impossible not to notice Naesala's attitude toward Elincia the day before. "Because she won't pay you?"

"Of course not!" Naesala exploded, stretching his wings as if he was about to take off. "Do you know what that bitch did?"

"No, I don't," Ike replied calmly. "Will you tell me?"

"She..." Naesala blinked and cocked his head, his brow deeply furrowed. His anger seemed to have evaporated as quickly as it had come over him. "My, what an unusual outburst," he said jovially. "I seem to be a bit on edge today."

"Now that's an understatement," Ike said dryly. _What exactly did Elincia do to him? It looks like he doesn't want to tell me... so I have to ask her instead. She'll try to evade my questions again, but I have to be insistent this time. I have to make her tell me–_

"Your guess is correct," Naesala interrupted Ike's resolution. "My point of contention is our pay, or the lack thereof." He grinned, but even Ike could see that he was not being sincere. "For me, it's all about the money, all the time."

"Of course," Ike said. _He's lying. He probably doesn't want anyone to know that he can be hurt and angered... that he's not just the callous mercenary king he pretends to be._

"I'm rapidly losing interest in this conversation," the Raven King said and flapped his wings. "I recommend you torch this place, so the enemy can't use it to fall back if they lose."

"You mean burn down the whole city?" Ike asked. "That's a bit extreme." He smirked as he realized why Naesala had made his recommendation. "Such a fire would also destroy all evidence of your thievery."

"Oh, really?" Naesala asked in an overly surprised tone. "I didn't even think of that."

"Just so you know, I doubt Elincia cares about what you're doing," Ike told him. "If she did, she would have told us to keep an eye on you."

"Is that so?" Naesala shrugged once more. "My advice still stands, though. Your queen will have this place burned down anyway, so you can earn her favor by pre-empting her."

"What makes you think Elincia would do that?"

"Because she's thinking in the long term," Naesala replied in a bored tone, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Why would she allow the Empire to keep a large fortress this close to her border? She will not only have it burned down, but also prevent any rebuilding attempts by force. Take it from someone who knows a little more about strategy and politics than you, mercenary." He hesitated for a moment, then added: "And since this is a military town, there won't be any civilians losing their homes and belongings... just in case your conscience is rearing its ugly head."

Before Ike could think of a reply, Naesala began flapping his wings again and took off into the sky, transforming into raven form in mid-air. Even if Ike had called something after him, the large raven would not have been able to reply.

_He's got a point_, Ike admitted to himself. _If hostilities between Begnion and Crimea escalate, this place would serve as a staging area for future attacks. And besides, seeing their fortress go down in flames behind them should demoralize the enemy greatly._

Ike looked after the Raven King who grew smaller and smaller in the sky, feeling a strange sense of pity. If Elincia had used underhanded means to force the Greil Mercenaries into this battle – purely hypothetically speaking, of course – Ike would certainly also be very angry with her.

_If we destroy the fort and cripple Begnion's offensive capacities against Crimean territory, then maybe Elincia will feel more secure_, he thought. It was another argument in favor of burning down Flaguerre, and perhaps the most convincing one. _Maybe then she'll release her 'allies' from their servitude... because this sort of thing just isn't right._

Having made his decision, Ike turned around to face his soldiers, who had been listening to his conversation with the Raven King with moderate interest. "Split into small groups and look for Shinon's and Mia's teams," he told them. "Tell them to leave the city immediately through the east gate, and put fire to as many buildings as they can along the way. We're burning this place into the ground."

* * *

Levail had not been a general for very long, and he had never led a force anywhere near the size of the Central Army before. He knew that if he lost this battle, his career would be over, since the Senate rarely gave second chances. Fortunately for him, the battle was undecided as of right now, and he was doing his best to nudge the scales of war in the right direction.

It had been twenty, perhaps thirty minutes since Levail had led his forces through the gap in the northern wall and on the battlefield, where they had clashed with the forces of Daein, who had allied themselves with Crimea for some inconceivable reason. Soon after, they had been reinforced by Crimean troops, restoring a rough numerical parity between the two sides. The Imperial soldiers were superior in training and equipment to their counterparts, but both Crimean and Daein soldiers fought as if the continued existence of their countries depended on the outcome of this battle (which was true for Crimea, though it should not be true for Daein).

At one point, Levail had spotted a woman who might well have been the Queen of Crimea herself, sitting atop a horse and using a healing staff on her wounded soldiers. But the flow of battle had quickly carried her out of sight again, and Levail had found himself under the savage assault of a knight in black, blood-specked armor. He had been able to hold his own until an allied mage had driven the dark knight away under a barrage of fireballs, but he was not so sure that he would have survived an extended duel, and fell back from the front line into the second row in order to catch his breath.

_What's next? The Black Knight himself? Rumor has it he's risen from the dead. I doubt anyone other than General Zelgius could defeat him, and he's not here with us._

It was not for the first time that Levail bemoaned the absence of the Empire's most famed general. Surely, Zelgius would not have failed to scout for approaching enemies during the night. His very presence on the front lines alone would have inspired his soldiers much more than that of the little-known General Levail, and struck fear in the heart of his enemies. He might have turned the tides of battle single-handedly, as he had done during the recent war against the laguz, and...

_Enough! This is no time for hero worship!_ Levail got a hold of himself and returned to the front line, his Wishblade held firmly in both hands. He had given the battle standard to a lightly injured soldier who could no longer fight, but still wanted to be useful, and who was now following his general wherever he went so that messengers knew where to find him. But even as he fought in the melee, Levail considered the overall battle situation, as far as he could overlook it.

_There has been no word or sighting from the troops encamped to the south. Until that changes, I cannot count on them to relieve us._

_The front line is stable, though it's fluctuating. Neither side has made a decisive breakthrough yet. But even without a breakthrough, we're in danger of being pushed back into the fort, which now has a sizeable gap in its walls._

_There were enemy detachments guarding both gates. Now that we've left Flaguerre, they'll probably circle around the city and attack us from our flanks._

Levail decided that he had to prepare for the inevitable enemy reinforcements, and relayed orders to his men to reinforce their flanks to the east and west. That meant weakening the front line, but there was no helping it, unless he wanted to present soft, unprotected flanks to the enemy and be quickly crushed from two or three directions.

_Some things can't be helped. I'll just fight twice as hard to make up for the soldiers moved to the flanks._

Levail smirked at his own thoughts: Though he was a powerful fighter in his own right, he could not hope to match the loss of strength caused be hundreds of men moving to the flanks of his army. His lance was sharper and more powerful than any other in the world (or so the blacksmith had claimed), and although Levail probably slew more enemies than any other Imperial soldier, there were limits to how much difference a single man could make.

_It all comes down to our strategy. Whoever uses his army better will win the day._

"General!" The cry of a messenger reached Levail's ears even over the noise of battle, and after impaling another enemy, he quickly fell back to receive the man. "What gives?" he asked calmly even as he steeled himself for bad news.

"Both our flanks have come under attack, Sir!" the messenger reported nervously. "Mounted knights in the west and a mixed force of mercenaries in the east."

"Were their lines reinforced in time?"

"Yes, Sir. Both flanks are holding... at least right now."

Relieved that he had taken appropriate countermeasures just in time, Levail allowed himself a deep sigh. They were surrounded from three directions now, but the situation was still under control. However, the arrival of the Crimean Royal Knights signified that the soldiers in the south camp had either been annihilated, surrendered or taken flight.

_I was not counting on them before_, Levail thought defiantly. _This changes nothing. If we can inflict enough losses on all front lines, we'll at least win a tactical victory. And even with a gap in the walls, we should still be able to mount an adequate defense of Flaguerre in case we have to fall back._

"All right," Levail turned to the messenger. "Stay close to me until I need to send you..." He did not complete his sentence, because his gaze was distracted by a sight that made his eyes widen in shock.

Several large pillars of black smoke were rising from inside Flaguerre.

"Damn it!" Levail cursed. "They got inside the city and put it to the torch!" He immediately regretted his verbal outburst, for many of the soldiers near him, who otherwise would not have noticed the calamity behind their backs, turned around and stared in shock at their burning fortress. "Keep your eyes on the enemy!" Levail barked. "I... I'll come up with a plan! Don't lose focus now!"

But even though the men of the Central Army were disciplined enough not to panic, the knowledge that their only avenue of retreat was literally going up in smoke at this very moment could not fail to affect them. And thanks to Levail's careless words, that knowledge traveled quickly throughout the army like ripples from a stone thrown into water. Levail cursed himself as he watched a halberdier literally lose his head because he made the mistake of turning around in mid-fight, and shuddered with the knowledge that many of his men might be suffering a similar fate right now.

"Don't lose heart!" Levail yelled. His voice was strained, but it still carried far and wide across the battlefield. "The victors need no place to retreat to!" But even as he encouraged his men, he had to plan for the possibility of defeat – it was his responsibility as the general of this army.

_We cannot go through the fire, nor can we push through the combined Crimean and Daein forces. Which leaves only a withdrawal over one of the flanks..._

Minutes passed. Minutes Levail spent fighting as fiercely as he could while keeping the morale of his men from dropping too low, trying as hard as he could to be an inspiration for his men. And to a certain degree, it even seemed to work: The soldiers around him were emboldened by their general's fearlessness and resolve, and managed to hold the line and even push forward a little.

Unfortunately, Levail's army was vast, and most soldiers were fighting too far away from their general to draw inspiration from his performance. He also noticed that the enemy leaders – the black-clad knight, a blue-haired paladin, a silver-haired mage, and the Queen of Crimea herself – were focusing their attacks on different sections of the front line, away from the center where the most elite troops were fighting. Levail was not so conceited that he assumed they feared him – it was simply the more efficient strategy to focus on the weaker enemies, inflicting losses instead of being entangled in a long, drawn-out struggle.

_This isn't good_, Levail thought and considered temporarily abandoning the center in favor of the left or right wing, or perhaps the two flanks which were also suffering under heavy assaults. But wheresoever he might go, he would leave another part of his army weakened – the enemy simply had too many powerful fighters spread out along the front line, and even if he was a match for any one of them (which was far from certain), Levail could not be in several places at once. _If only General Zelgius were here_, he thought once again, only to shake his head at his own pitiful thoughts. _This is not a world in which wishes are granted. Least of all on the battlefield._

During a short break between fighting two opponents, Levail turned around and looked at Flaguerre: The entire fortress city was burning now, and whatever hope he had held that his command staff might get the fires under control evaporated. In fact, Levail had to face the reality that his officers were most likely dead by this time, killed by the same people who had started the fires. The black ravens of Kilvas still circled above the city, harbingers of the all-consuming inferno. It was a small consolation that at least the wind was blowing from the north, pushing the massive pillars of smoke away from the Imperial army.

"General!" Another messenger arrived at Levail's left, his voice wrought with panic in spite of all the harsh training Imperial soldiers underwent. "The western flank is collapsing! The enemy knights are breaking through! What shall we do?"

There was no time to think, Levail knew. He had to give an answer right now, or the battle would be lost within minutes. No, it was already lost – he could no longer avoid that realization. But he still had a duty to prevent this defeat from turning into a complete rout.

"Have the left wing fall back and merge with the remainders of the western flank," he yelled. "They must hold the line as long as they can while the main body of the army retreats!"

There it was, the word that destroyed all hopes of victory in those who heard it – retreat. But it also kindled a new hope in the soldiers: The hope that a good number of them might be able to fight another day, and suffer neither the shame of surrender nor the finality of death. But in order to nurture that hope, Levail had to come up with a plan right now.

"I want all reserves to mount a breakthrough on the eastern flank!" he yelled. "The only thing between us and the road to Mugill is a bunch of sellswords!" He chose not to share his suspicion that this 'bunch of sellswords' were, in fact, the famous Greil Mercenaries, led by the legendary General Ike. But legend or no legend, Levail was not about to lose the entirety of the Central Army, not just because that would also cost him his head even if he was personally allowed to return to Sienne, but also because it would threaten the very existence of the nation itself. Begnion's soldiers were the backbone of her Empire, and although Levail had nothing but disdain for the ruling class of nobles and Senators, he would not allow his countrymen to suffer what would no doubt be a devastating counterattack by Crimea and her allies.

"Listen to me," Levail addressed the soldiers around him, who were among the most elite of the Imperial army. "I want half of you to fan out along the left wing and reinforce it where necessary, while the the other half remains at the center. We must hold all our lines until the breakthrough is a success, or we'll be slaughtered from behind as we run." He did not say that there was little chance for those who stayed behind to join their comrades in their escape. It was obvious to everybody.

"We'll die as proud soldiers of the Empire, Sir!" a soldier shouted, and several of his comrades joined in his cries. Levail was moved by their fearlessness in the face of death, and considered staying with them, but decided that it was out of the question: He had to take the rest of his men safely to Mugill, either to aid in the defense of that city or pay for his shameful defeat with his life, whichever the Senate decreed. The latter was not a very appealing prospect: If Levail was to die, he wished to die in battle, not on the chopping block. But he was the general of this army, and he would not shirk his responsibilities by seeking a glorious death for himself.

"Once you've judged that we're far enough to make it safely to Mugill, I want you to surrender," Levail told the men who would stay behind. "If the stories about Queen Elincia are true, you will not be mistreated." Levail hoped that his words were true, not only for the sake of his men, but also for the sake of General Zelgius, who was likely to be a prisoner of the queen, if Vice-Minister Lekain had spoken the truth. _But I can't concern myself with him now. I must see my men to safety._

There was no time for grand speeches or words of farewell. General Levail left his elite soldiers behind as he directed the bulk of his forces against the mercenaries in the east. He tried to make his way there himself, but no matter how often he yelled at his men to get out of his way, he could not make it: The Central Army was losing ground rapidly, resulting in a breakdown of formation, and the ordered rows of soldiers turned into little more than a crowd of near-panicked men whose only concern was to push their comrades forward. Levail had to watch the attempted outbreak from a distance, with an overwhelming feeling of frustration afflicting him.

Over the course of the next ten minutes, frustration turned into bitterness, and bitterness almost into despair, as Levail watched his soldiers throw themselves against the eastern enemy in a desperate attempt to win their freedom – an attempt that was ultimately doomed to failure. The Greil Mercenaries – there could be no doubt that it was them, for what other force of their size could have halted the advance of half the Central Army? – held the line without surrendering a single foot of ground to Levail's men. Their leader, a blue-haired, sword-wielding young man who could only be General Ike himself, fought on the front line the entire time, and Levail cursed himself that he could not reach him. If half of what they told about Ike's strength was true, then Levail was no match for him, but he would rather fall to his blade than be stuck in the middle of his army, unable to do anything other than shout encouragements which sounded increasingly hollow even to him.

_It's no good_, he finally decided. The left wing was still holding out against all odds, with the Empire's elite forces proving their reputation as men who never took a backward step, but even they could not hold out forever. Rather than wait until what was left of the front lines collapsed and the enemy crushed them from behind, Levail was resolved to avert disaster and at least save the lives of his soldiers, though not their freedom. He held strongly to the belief that when the time came for him to battle to the death, he would somehow know it... and that time was not today.

"Soldiers of the Empire!" Levail shouted, his voice hoarse and worn out. "You have fought well today, but our enemies were stronger." He paused for a second, wondering whether there was an opportunity to negotiate terms with the enemy, but every second wasted thus would cost dozens of his soldiers their lives. "I order you to stand down and surrender!" he shouted, hoping that his voice would also carry over to the enemy. "The battle is over."

There was no protest among the rank-and-file of the Imperial army, and in fact, Levail could hear many a sigh of relief. The common soldiers did not desire a glorious death on the battlefield, and within seconds, the Imperial battle standards were replaced by white flags waving in the wind. Shameful though defeat might be, in the end, the vast majority of soldiers still preferred a prisoner camp to a mass grave.

_Perhaps I'll encounter General Zelgius in such a camp_, Levail thought. But the idea of this a reunion filled him with dread rather than with joy, for he would have to inform Zelgius about the greatest defeat the Empire had suffered in centuries.

_It seems I wasn't a worthy replacement after all..._

* * *

"Your Majesty!" Geoffrey cried out in elation. Somehow, he had managed to stay on his queen's side throughout the ever-changing tides of battle. "Look!"

"I see it," Elincia replied, holding an almost used-up healing staff in her hands. "White flags. They're surrendering." _And not a moment too soon_, she thought, feeling Lehran's Medallion pulsate within her belt pouch. Its vibrations had become faster as the fighting had intensified, and during some particularly heated moments of the battle, she could have sworn that it had made a sound like that of a heart beating. She did not know how close the world had come to the awakening of the dark god, but it had probably been far too close for anybody's comfort.

But even as feelings of relief flooded over Elincia, she realized that things were much more complicated than that. _Because this battle _has _ended too soon_, an evil, nagging voice spoke in her mind. _Much too soon. The enemy hasn't taken enough losses yet. We can't hold them prisoner forever, and the Empire will be able to use these men against us in the future. There's no way the Senate will take this loss lying down._

Elincia considered holding the surrendering soldiers hostage and forcing the Empire to sign a blood pact with Crimea – thanks to Volke, she had three sheets of enchanted paper to use for this purpose. But if the majority of the Senators where at all like Valtome and Lekain (which they probably were), they would rather sacrifice all of their soldiers than admit defeat. The death of Lekain and the loss of the Central Army would not be enough to overcome centuries of Imperial arrogance.

"I must give the order to stop the fighting," Geoffrey interrupted Elincia's dire musings, "or it'll turn into a massacre."

"A massacre," Elincia whispered to herself. "Yes, that's what we need right now."

"Your pardon?" Geoffrey asked and brought his horse closer to hers. "I didn't understand what you just said."

_The Empire will not see reason_, Elincia decided, ignoring Geoffrey's inquisitive looks._ That is a fact. If Crimea is to have a future, we must cripple Begnion's military might permanently. That is the only solution I can think of._

Of all the terrible things she had done until that point, the worst so far had been the murder of a thousand Kilvans. But these soldiers desperately waving their white flags numbered in the tens of thousands... a whole order of magnitude larger, as Geoffrey might have put it.

_When the forces of Crimea tried to surrender to Daein three years ago, all who laid down their weapons were put to the sword_, Elincia recalled. _Because of that massacre, our army today is not even a third as strong as the army my uncle used to command, in spite of Geoffrey's tireless recruitment efforts. We would just be doing to others as they did unto us!_

"Listen to me, Geoffrey," Elincia said out loud, her voice as cold as the wind blowing from the north. "To ensure Crimea's prosperity, we must weaken the Empire in the long term. We now have an opportunity to do so, and we cannot waste it." Geoffrey gave his queen an apprehensive look, as if he suspected what she was about to say. _Of course he suspects! He knows me well, and he's not stupid._

"We will not accept their surrender," Elincia declared. "We cannot afford such mercy."

Geoffrey's expression turned from apprehensive to appalled. He opened his mouth in protest, but seemed unable to form any words.

"What will you do, Geoffrey?" Elincia asked. She did not envy him for the decision he had to make now. "I am about to cross a new threshold in depravity. So how do you judge me now?" She watched Geoffrey grind his teeth as he considered her question, considered whether he would rather commit an atrocity or betray his queen.

_Perhaps I want him to stop me._ The thought came unbidden to Elincia, but she could not deny that there was some truth to it. _To stop me from losing what's left of my soul. _She let go of her near-depleted healing staff and let her hand hover over the grip of her sword Amiti. _But I will never yield to him. If he finds me evil, then he must do to me what men do to evil._

"I... I understand your reasoning," Geoffrey pressed out between his teeth. "In the powerplay between nations, nothing counts for as much as the number of soldiers." He put his hand against his forehead as if he was suffering from a fever. "After today, I will no longer be able to call myself a knight... but I will do as you ask me to, for the sake of Crimea." He gulped and looked squarely at Elincia. "Give me your order."

"Send word to all allied troops," Elincia replied, both relieved and disappointed at the same time that Geoffrey had not stopped her. "Cut the enemy down to the last man."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

_May Ashera have mercy on my soul_, Elincia thought. _I'm every bit as evil as Ashnard now._

But even that realization was not enough to make her revoke her order, nor was the rising cadence of Lehran's Medallion pulsating inside her belt pouch.


	28. Breaking Point

**Chapter 28: Breaking Point**

"She said _what_?"

Ike could not believe the messenger's words. They were talking a short distance behind what had been a battle line a few minutes ago, with countless Imperial soldiers flooding toward the Greil Mercenaries with their arms raised, loudly announcing their surrender. "I'm pretty sure I heard you wrong, soldier."

"You heard me perfectly right, Sir Ike," the Crimean messenger replied calmly. "Her Majesty commands that no quarter must be given to the enemy."

"She would never give such an order!" Ike snapped. Why was this man saying something like this?

"Do you find me untrustworthy, Sir Ike?" the man asked. "Shall I send for another messenger to confirm my words?"

"Ike, look," Titania's concerned voice sounded right next to him. "They're still attacking."

"What? Where?" Ike turned to follow Titania's gaze, and what he saw confirmed her words: Even though the Imperial soldiers were waving white flags on all fronts, the armies of Crimea and Daein were still bearing down on them without hesitation. He saw soldiers who had thrown away their weapons frantically try and find them again, only to be impaled by a lance or spear. Others, who still had at least their shields, were holding them with both hands and tried to protect themselves as they begged their attackers to stop. "What the hell?" was the only thing Ike could say.

"Hey Boss, what are we supposed to do?" Mia came running toward Ike, looking completely unnerved and almost frightened. "The enemy is giving up, but they're still being killed!" A visible tremor went through her entire body. "What's going on here?"

"I'd like to know that, too," Ike replied gruffly. "Something must have happened to Elincia," he decided. "This cannot be her doing." A frightening idea came to him. "Perhaps that monster Bertram took over somehow! This sort of blood bath is just the thing he would enjoy. We have to get to Elincia and see if she's all right."

"I appreciate the notion, Sir Ike, but I'm fine."

"Elincia!"

The Queen of Crimea had appeared right behind Ike, sitting atop a brown horse instead of her pegasus, looking down from her mount with cold, harsh eyes. There were some blood stains on her armor, but she seemed to be uninjured herself. "Return to General Geoffrey," she said to the Crimean messenger. "I realized soon after sending you that Sir Ike would not believe his orders unless I gave them to him in person. So here I am." She looked earnestly down at Ike, who could not believe what he was hearing. "To ensure Crimea's continued safety, Begnion's army must be decimated permanently. As your employer, I'm ordering you to give the enemy no quarter."

"I refuse." The words were out of Ike's mouth before he knew it, but he did not even consider taking them back. He had no idea what had happened to Elincia, but obeying her order was completely out of the question. His father had not failed to endow him with a strong sense of morals, and killing unarmed soldiers was out of the question, no matter the circumstances. "I refuse," he repeated, "and I am asking you: What the hell is wrong with you?"

"This is hardly the time for a conversation," Elincia replied. Ike's disobedience did not seem to surprise her one bit. "Suffice it to say, while there may indeed be something wrong with me, it is beyond your power to fix."

"I knew it," Ike said, more to himself than to Elincia. "Something did happen to you." Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Titania, Mia and other company members following the unsettling exchange between their commander and their employer. Not one of them protested Ike's refusal, and he took their silence as confirmation that he was doing the right thing.

"Why are you doing such a horrible thing?" Ike asked Elincia. "Are you being threatened? Or are you under a spell? Or did you also sign a... a blood pact?"

"I'm afraid not," Elincia replied. "I gave this order of my own free will... at least if human beings have such a thing." Her fatalistic tone infuriated Ike, but he forced himself to remain calm. "I have no idea about the problems you face as queen," he admitted. "But there must be a better solution than indiscriminate slaughter. I can help you find one!"

"It's far too late for that," Elincia said with a hint of sadness. "Three years ago, you had the opportunity to take your place amongst Crimea's leaders... and your place at my side, if you had wished so." She looked at Ike with a strange intensity that made him feel uneasy, but it passed as quickly as it had come. "Nobody can turn back the wheel of time," she said. "Your chance to influence Crimea's future has come and gone."

"I'm influencing it right now," Ike protested, "by refusing your crazy order."

"Are you really?" Elincia raised an eyebrow and turned her head toward the battlefield. "Take a good look, Ike. Your men may not partake in the killing, but as long as they block the enemy's escape route, it makes no real difference."

"It's true, commander." Titania stepped up to Ike's right side, her scarred, one-eyed face contorted in disgust. "We are the unwitting anvil to the queen's hammer. The Begnion soldiers are being driven against our lines and killed from behind."

"Well, there's an easy solution to that," Ike growled as he confirmed the words of his deputy commander with his own eyes. He was not going to passively support Elincia's madness like this. "Everybody, step aside and abandon your formation!" he shouted. "Form a gap so that the Imperials can escape to the east!"

"Ike!" Elincia cried angrily from atop her horse. "Are you betraying me?"

"That's what it looks like," Ike replied and noted with satisfaction that his mercenaries were quick to follow his command; apparently, they had been none too happy with being accessories to mass murder. "I'm sorry Elincia, but there are things that are much more important than loyalty to an employer... or a friend."

"Resume your position right now!" Elincia demanded.

"No, I won't," Ike said flatly. "And it's too late anyway. Look. The Central Army isn't looking the gift horse in the mouth." He watched Elincia stare open-mouthed at the gap in the Greil Mercenaries' lines, and the countless enemy soldiers who streamed through it, stripping off their armor and throwing away their remaining weapons as they ran for their lives.

"I see," Elincia said hoarsely. "So you have betrayed me after all, Ike. Worse than that, you have betrayed Crimea." She sighed deeply. "But I suppose you had no choice, being the man you are."

"I don't like where this is going," Titania whispered next to Ike, who had just thought the exact same thing. Would Elincia order her men to attack the Greil Mercenaries? Surely, she was not that far gone.

"Your past services to Crimea serve to diminish your treachery today," Elincia announced. She sounded like a judge passing down a verdict, and a second later, Ike realized that she was doing just that. "Therefore, I will be lenient and merely banish you and your company from Crimea for the rest of your days."

"What?" Ike could not help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "This is a bad joke!"

"I am not joking," Elincia replied. Her face looked like that of a marble statue: Pale, cold and utterly motionless. "Leave my country and never return. Go to Gallia, or to another nation that will harbor you. The way into Crimea will be barred to you forever."

"You can't kick us out just because we disobeyed your crazy orders!" Ike yelled. He struggled to find words to express his anger and confusion, but in the end, he could only repeat his question from earlier. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I am doing my duty," Elincia stated simply.

"That's a terrible excuse for mass murder," Ike growled. To his surprise, Elincia brought her horse a step closer and spoke to him in a low voice, with a glimmer of sympathy in her eyes.

"Ike, I respect your morals. Without your and your father's convictions, I would not be alive today. But I must punish you, because I cannot give the appearance of being weak. I cannot allow dissent, not with Daein and Kilvas trying to tear into me at the first possible moment."

"Then how about you _stop enslaving them_?" Ike barked.

"That is not an option at the moment," Elincia replied, back to her earlier coldness.

"You... I..." Ike let go of his sword and threw his arms in the air. He was simply at a loss for words.

"I understand if you don't want to count me among your friends after today." Elincia had shifted back again to a kinder tone, as if there were two souls struggling for dominance inside her. "But at least I don't want you to be my enemy. I've already ordered you as the queen, so now I implore you as a... as a former friend: Leave Crimea and do not return."

_There _are_ two souls struggling inside her_, Ike realized. _And I cannot allow the one that would commit mass murder to win!_

"You can't just sever your ties to me like that," he said with new-found determination. "I don't give up on my friends that easily."

"I'm glad to hear that, but–"

"I won't let you continue this," Ike interrupted Elincia, "and if I have to drag you off your horse and beat some sense into you!" He clenched his fists and made a step toward the queen's mount – and froze in mid-step when he found the tip of Elincia's sword pointed against his throat.

"Ike!" a female voice yelled behind him. "Boss!" screamed another. But nobody dared to intervene, and for several seconds that might as well have been hours, Ike stared at Elincia and she at him, neither of them moving an inch. _It's worse than I feared_, was the only thought that went through Ike's mind. _Much, much worse..._

"Do not cross me, Ike," Elincia finally said, her voice as cold as the grave. "Other than Geoffrey, there is not a person alive in this world whose death would cause me more sorrow than yours. But if you turn against Crimea, I will not hesitate to strike you down myself."

"I see," Ike said flatly. "I see." It was the only thing he could say to her, for his mind was in such an uproar that no words of his could possibly make any sense right now. Elincia had gone truly mad, and he had no idea how to deal with her at this point in time. Rather than trying to reason with the unreasonable, he turned around and addressed his men.

"Greil Mercenaries, we're leaving. Right now."

"A good choice," Elincia's voice sounded behind Ike, and he threw his head around to face her one more time.

"This isn't over!" he said. "You may have given yourself up to madness, but I won't give up on you! Not without a fight!"

"Is that a threat?" Elincia asked, her blade still perilously close to Ike's throat.

"No," Ike replied. "It's a promise." Then he turned around again and walked over to his waiting comrades.

He had not made his promise lightly. He was at a complete loss as to how, but he would see Elincia return to her senses, even if he had to risk his life to do so. He had not fought and bled and struggled for a whole year to see her fall to madness like this.

"Commander, where will we be going?" Titania asked. As always, she had adapted to the new reality with surprising rapidity, even as half of the other mercenaries were still staring at their commander or the queen. "The road to the east leads into the Empire."

"We'll follow that road until we come close to Mugill," Ike decided on the spot. "If the Imperial Army has any sense of gratitude, they won't attack us. We'll then turn due south and enter Serenes Forest."

"And take the secret passage into Gallia from there," Titania nodded. "That's probably our best bet in this situation." She shook her head in utter disbelief. "But I still can't understand why–"

"We'll leave the topic of Elincia for later," Ike cut her off. "Right now, we have to get going, before she does something even crazier."

"Do you think she would attack us?"

"I wouldn't put it past her in her current state of mind."

"Ike, what's going on?" Mist had arrived from farther behind the lines, still sharing her horse with Soren. "Mia said that Elincia–"

"Later, Mist," Ike interrupted his sister and picked up his sword where he had dropped it. "We have to leave, and now." He wanted to turn around again and look in Elincia's direction one more time, but resisted the urge. "We are not welcome in Crimea anymore."

* * *

Even in his last orders before departing, Ike had managed to thwart Elincia's plans: By following the road to Mugill, he was effectively putting himself and his company between the fleeing Begnion soldiers and her soldiers. She could still send the ravens of Kilvas to pursue them, but once he was out of her sight, Naesala would have no reason to fight with enthusiasm, and could easily claim to have killed any number of Imperials when he returned. If she wanted to get past the Greil Mercenaries, she would have to attack them... and she was not willing to do that yet. After all, they were following her orders to leave Crimea, and taking the only possible road to do so.

_I suppose I'll have to let the rest of the Central Army get away_, Elincia decided. _How many of them did we kill? A third? No, probably less._ She looked at the former battlefield that was littered with crimson-colored corpses of Begnion soldiers. _Was it enough to weaken the Empire in the long term?_

It simply _had_ to be enough. And if it was not, then Elincia would find another way to contain the threat posed by the Empire. She had reached a point where there were no more threshold she would not cross, no crimes she would not commit, as long as it served Crimea's best interest.

_That goes for you, too, Ike_, Elincia thought as a powerful sense of melancholy overcame her. _If you try to return to Crimea, I will hinder you. And if you take up arms against me... then I will do what I must._

She followed the Greil Mercenaries with her eyes as they moved along the road to the east, led by the blue-haired young man who had promised to come back for her. Elincia found herself praying that he would not try to keep that promise.

_I would rather never see you again than have you killed. Please, Ike, for the sake of the love I once held for you... never come back._

Perhaps she should have spoken those words earlier, Elincia thought. But Ike was out of earshot now, and she did not have the courage to pursue him.


	29. The Terminal Agenda

**Chapter 29: The Terminal Agenda**

After the third week in his cell, Sephiran had finally stopped counting the days. In his long life, he had endured longer stretches of isolation than this one, and his sanity was no worse off for it (relatively speaking, of course). When Lekain had not returned for weeks after his initial visit, when he had offered Sephiran a role as a puppet dancing to the Senate's strings, the disgraced Prime Minister had resigned himself to the fact that his next visitor would probably be his executioner. But although the prospect of death did not frighten him as it frightened other living creatures, he would rather survive and regain his freedom somehow, if only to complete his agenda.

Sephiran had put high hopes in his protege Zelgius, the former Daein soldier whose fear of being found out as one of the Branded had motivated his defection to the Begnion Empire. Surely, the man who considered Sephiran his one and only friend would have rushed to free him as soon as he learned about the Senate's coup d'etat – or so Sephiran had thought. But so far, Zelgius had not come, which could only mean one of two things: Either he had not learned about the situation in Sienne yet, which was unlikely, or he was incapable of aiding Sephiran, on account of being either a prisoner or dead.

_Zelgius is not coming,_ Sephiran had concluded some time ago. _Neither is Sanaki. Did something happen to her, too?_ The thought of the Apostle coming to harm, after trying for most of her young life to do the right thing in a nation vexed with corruption and selfishness, was perhaps the only thing that could still make Sephiran angry. All the other injustices in the world he had been able to accept on some level, including the Serenes Massacre which had forever destroyed his faith in the mortal races. But for some reason, he cared more for this girl, who was his distant descendant, than for anybody else in this world, including Zelgius. Rather than trying to reconcile this sympathy – or, if he was honest with himself, love – with his plan to bring about Ashera's judgement, Sephiran had contended himself with letting his opposing desires run in parallel: Creating a better world for Sanaki and plotting the destruction or at least depopulation of that same world.

_Neither laguz nor beorc are rational creatures_, he had told himself after first taking note of this crass contradiction in his behavior. _My mind tells me that this world is beyond redemption, and my heart tells me that Sanaki deserves a chance. I would like to say that I'm a creature of the mind, but that is not the case. I am who I am, and that means I am insane, then so be it._

Such and similar thoughts occupied Sephiran's mind during the long weeks of his imprisonment. He received food and drink in small, but sufficient quantities, and when he was not lost in dreary and pessimistic thoughts, he spent much of his time sleeping overly long. And it was during such a period of extended sleep when finally, another visitor arrived.

"Hold! Who are you? How did you – aaaargh!"

Even while asleep, Sephiran had delicate senses – no matter what he looked like, he was still a heron – and at the first sound of his warden shouting and subsequently screaming in pain, he was wide awake and rose from his pallet, eagerly anticipating his rescuer. It had to be his rescuer, since an executioner would hardly feel the need to strike down or even kill the prison warden.

_This is almost exciting_, Sephiran thought as he listened to the sound of a key being inserted into the lock of his cell door. _Is it Zelgius after all? Or Sigrun, acting on the orders of Sanaki? Or somebody else entirely?_

The key was turned, the door thrown open, and an armored figure entered Sephiran's badly-lit cell. However, even in the dim light that entered the cell through a single, tiny window, Sephiran knew immediately that his rescuer was not Zelgius: He had a smaller, less muscular frame than the Branded general, and carried a lance in his right hand instead of a sword. His hair was brown or perhaps a dirty blonde, and his youthful face made him look no older than thirty.

_He looks vaguely familiar... I think._

"Lord Sephiran," the young man said as he walked up to the cell's only inhabitant. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Sephiran replied. "And you have my gratitude... that is, if you're here to set me free."

"I am."

"Splendid." Sephiran smiled at his rescuer. "Now please don't take this the wrong way, but I was expecting General Zelgius to appear in your stead... uh... what was your name again?"

"General Levail, my lord."

"Levail?" Sephiran made an involuntary step back. "The servant of Duke Gaddos... Vice-Minister Lekain." _Is he an executioner after all?_

"Not anymore," Levail answered grimly. "The Vice-Minister is dead."

"Now that's good news." Sephiran let the words slip before he knew it. "Ahem. Pardon me. So... did you kill him?"

"No, from what I've heard, it was the work of an unknown assassin." Levail did not volunteer any more information about Lekain's murder, possibly because he did not know anything more, and changed the subject. "As for General Zelgius, he has been captured by Crimea."

"Oh my. Zelgius captured? What is the world coming to?" Sephiran spoke jovially to buy himself time to think. What had happened during his long incarceration? Had Crimea joined the laguz and defeated the Empire? And who had murdered Lekain? He decided that he might just as well ask Levail these questions, and so he did.

"It's a long story," Levail said, "and I only know of the things that I personally witnessed. What you need to know right now is that Begnion is sliding into chaos." He took a deep breath. "Three days ago, I... I lost an important battle against the enemies of the Empire. Seeking to take responsibility, I traveled to Sienne as fast as I could, only to find the Senate in a state of turmoil. They went through three Vice-Ministers after Lekain's death, and none of them lasted longer than two days! From what I can tell, several rival factions are fighting each other for leadership, with no clear victor in sight, while the war effort and the public safety are being completely neglected. It's madness!"

"Your words do not surprise me much, General Levail," Sephiran said. "Most of the Senators are little more than spoiled children who lack the ability to cooperate and compromise unless a powerful leader enforces his authority. Lekain was such a leader, but with him gone... well, let's just say I find your tale very credible."

"Thank you, my lord," Levail said. "I... I never cared much about the Senators, nor my master Lekain," he added, "though I suppose that is an easy thing to say right now."

"Saying it may be easy, but forcefully rescuing an enemy of the state is not," Sephiran reminded his rescuer. "You are risking your life this very instant, you know."

"And for good reason, my lord," Levail said. "I only worked together with General Zelgius for a short time, but he spoke most highly of you on several occasions. That is why I'm here... because I believe that in the current chaos, only you and the Apostle can restore a semblance of order to the Empire which I've sworn to protect."

"The Apostle!" Sephiran chided himself for not assuring himself of her whereabouts earlier. "Where is she? Is she safe?"

"Quite so my lord," Levail said with unmistakable pride. "In fact, I have seen to it before I came to free you."

"Take me to her, then, right now! Everything else can wait."

"As you wish, Lord Sephiran," Levail replied. "But please stay close behind me," he added and raised his lance, "since there is no one in this building whom we can trust."

"I will walk in front of you," Sephiran said, "so you can say you're leading me to my execution." It was a rather morbid ploy, seeing as he might well have been executed soon if not for Levail's timely arrival, but Sephiran was a rather morbid person, and so it seemed appropriate.

Levail agreed with Sephiran's plans, and to the Prime Minister's surprise, they were not stopped once on their way out of the dungeon, even though they encountered several guards before they finally reached the exit and Sephiran could breathe fresh air for the first time in many weeks. Hurrying through the streets of Sienne, the two men soon reached a small hovel that looked out of place in the grand capital ciy, but Sephiran recognized it as a slave dwelling from the time before the emancipation edict.

"Her Holiness is inside," Levail whispered to Sephiran. "You know her well, don't you?"

"I am her most trusted servant," Sephiran replied in the affirmative.

"Then please go ahead and enter first," Levail said with a hint of nervousness, "because she was very intimidated when I saved her. Not that I touched her," he was quick to assure, "but I'm sure she'll be happier to see you than me."

"I understand," Sephiran said and noticed that his hands were trembling when he opened the door to the hovel. He had failed in his duty to protect Sanaki, and who knew what terrible things she had experienced during her captivity?

_Standing here like an indecisive idiot will not undo those things_, Sephiran told himself and gently pushed the door open. The hovel consisted of a single room devoid of furniture or any other items, and all of its windows save one had been nailed shut. But Sephiran had grown used to dim light during his imprisonment and immediately saw the young, black-haired girl in red robes sitting with her back to the door. His old and weary heart jumped with joy, an emotion he had no longer believed he could feel. Prompted by the sound of the opening door, the girl turned around and looked at the new arrival with fearful eyes.

"H-hello," she muttered, her voice low and timid. "I am Apostle Sanaki."

"No!" Sephiran cried out. He did not know this girl, had never seen her before. "No! This can't be!"

"You musn't hurt me!" the girl shrieked and backed away into the corner of the room. "I'm Apostle Sanaki! You must be nice to me!"

"You're NOT Apostle Sanaki!" Sephiran yelled. "Stop pretending!"

"My lord!" Levail entered the hovel behind Sephiran, his voice sounding both concerned and confused. "Is there a problem? She was in the Apostle's chambers, and introduced herself as such, so I thought..."

Sephiran ignored the general's words as he tried to understand what was going on. There was one logical explanation for all this – only one! – but he found it almost impossible to accept. This 'Apostle' was a fake, chosen by Lekain as he had threatened he would... and that could only mean one thing for the real Sanaki.

_Those monsters in the Senate had her murdered! They have taken everything from me! And I can't even kill Lekain for revenge anymore!_

"What's the matter, my lord?" Levail asked. "Are you feeling unwell?" He looked at the girl covering in the corner. "I think you scared her."

"I... I..." Sephiran began, but he found no words. What was left for him now in this life? Anything? Anything at all?

_Of course there is. I must ensure that Ashera makes her judgement. Now more than ever! For the sake of my dead people, and for Sanaki as well._

Calm returned to Sephiran, like the quiet before a deadly thunderstorm, and he turned to face the confused Levail. "My apologies," he said. "I did not recognize the Apostle in the near-dark, and I'm afraid long imprisonment was... not good for my mind."

"I understand completely, my lord," Levail said. "Being locked up in that damp hole for weeks... I can't imagine what it must have been like."

"I hope you will forgive me as well, your Holiness," Sephiran addressed the false Sanaki. It felt wrong and disrespectful to play such a charade, but if he wanted his plans to succeed, he had no choice. And it was not like the girl was the villain here: She was merely a puppet chosen by Lekain and his ilk. "Allow me to serve you again, as I did for the last years," he said, trusting that the girl was sufficiently intimidated to simply nod, and not mention that she had never seen Sephiran before. His expectations were not disappointed, for the false Sanaki cautiously returned to the center of the room and faced Sephiran. "I... I forgive my servant for his transgression," she said formally – no doubt it was one of the many lines she had been forced to memorize for her role. "Please take care of matters as you see fit."

"I will do as you command, Apostle," Sephiran replied, and although he felt genuine sympathy for the girl, he was relieved when he turned around and faced Levail again. The girl's resemblance to Sanaki was undeniable, and just looking at her made Sephiran uncomfortable. Her mere sight reminded him that the real Sanaki was most certainly dead, and that fact was not something he wished to be reminded of.

"Allow me to thank you for saving the Apostle," he said to Levail – continuing his charade, but it was in character for Prime Minister Sephiran to say. "Now we must make haste to ensure the future of the Empire. But first, tell me everything that happened since my imprisonment."

"Gladly, my lord."

As Levail brought Sephiran up to speed with recent events, the Prime Minister listened with growing amazement at his story that culminated in a tale of shameful defeat – and marveled when he thought about the person responsible for all this. He had met her once before, three years ago, but found it hard to reconcile his impression of a naive and vulnerable young princess with the brutal and merciless woman of Levail's tale. And yet, there was no reason to doubt the young general's sincerity.

"So Queen Elincia of Crimea took a Senator and then a general of the Empire prisoner," Sephiran recapitulated. "She forced the Central Army out of her territory, and in the following war wooed away the Empire's allies, soundly defeated the Central Army, burned down an entire fortress city and refused to accept the surrender of her enemies, very nearly slaughtering all of them." He shook his head. "What a stupendous tale."

"I swear by the Goddess that every last bit of it is true," Levail said solemnly. "My soldiers and I barely got away with their lives, apparently because General Ike disobeyed his orders. Even now, Crimean forces might be besieging Mugill – there's no telling how far the ambitions of Queen Elincia reach."

"This is a serious matter indeed," Sephiran said. "The Empire is being threatened from the outside as well as from the inside. It will take serious effort to preserve it." He spoke these words because they were what Levail would expect him to say, but in his mind, he was walking down a completely different path... one that would result in the end of all beorc and laguz on Tellius.

"My lord, I pledge myself to your service, as General Zelgius did," Levail suddenly said and knelt down before Sephiran. "If anybody can save the Empire, it is you, along with her Holiness."

"I accept your pledge," Sephiran replied graciously. _What a noble fool! But I will be able to use him, just as I used Zelgius._ "Together with the Apostle, I will start a revolt against the Senate here in Sienne, to restore her Holiness to her rightful position."

"I will help you with all my might, my lord," Levail said.

"No." Sephiran shook his head. "You will protect the Empire against its foreign enemies... against Queen Elincia and her allies. I am not a general. This is something only you can do."

"I understand," Levail said, his voice swelling with pride.

_How easily soldiers are manipulated... just like Zelgius._

"But with the losses the Central Army has taken, you will need new allies to put an end to Elincia," Sephiran said. "About the Greil Mercenaries... you say they vanished into Serenes Forest?"

"Yes, Sir. That was the last report I received before I departed Mugill for Sienne."

"I see. Then they are most likely on their way to Gallia now, through a secret passage only few people know of. You must follow them!"

"My lord?" Levail cocked his head in obvious confusion. "But it seems that they no longer work for Crimea... and they are responsible for saving many of my men's lives, not to mention my own! How will hounding them help us against Crimea?"

"Why, because you will not fight them," Sephiran explained with a smile. "You will join them."

"Join them? But..." Levail stood there open-mouthed. "My lord, do you think General Ike will turn against Crimea?"

"Perhaps not at first," Sephiran admitted. "But once Gallia declares war against Crimea, he is likely to join them."

"Gallia? Against Crimea? Why?" Levail could only shake his head. "You have me at a complete loss, Lord Sephiran."

"Trust me, General Levail," Sephiran said without volunteering an explanation. "Just trust me." _And trust General Zelgius, who will have his part to play in all this._

"I understand," Levail nodded slowly. "You probably know much more about the internal politics of other nations than myself... so I will do as you asked."

"Then let me tell you about the route to Gallia through Serenes Forest," Sephiran began and described the secret passage in great detail – from personal memory, of course. Levail did not ask how he knew about it, simply accepting it as proof of the Prime Minister's superior wisdom. After finishing his explanation, Sephiran ordered Levail to return to Mugill, gather as many reinforcements as he could along the way, and lead the remainder of the Central Army into Gallia, where things would take their course.

"I will put my complete trust in your plan, Lord Sephiran," the general said enthusiastically. "Your Holiness." He bowed before the false Sanaki, who had been sitting on the floor with her hands around her knees, and left the hovel. If everything went according to Sephiran's _actual_ plan, he would never see the man again.

"Please excuse me for a few hours, Apostle Sanaki," he told the young girl. "There are some important matters I have to attend to. For your own safety, please do not leave this building." The girl nodded silently, and Sephiran was on his way.

First, he would have to get his hands on a magic tome as well as some warp powder, and free Zelgius from captivity. He had a task for him – a last, grand task that the general would gladly fulfill for his friend and master. Once he succeeded, Gallia and most likely also Phoenicis would join Levail in his campaign against Crimea and her allies... which was exactly what Sephiran wanted.

Crimea. Begnion. Daein. Gallia. Phoenicis. Kilvas. Only the stubborn dragons of Goldoa would never take part in the coming war, but that was fine. Six out of seven nations would be more than enough. It would be a war even greater than the one started by Mad King Ashnard, who had failed to meet Sephiran's expectations three years ago. A war great and horrible enough to wake Ashera. And once the Goddess awoke and beheld the unchanged savagery of the mortal races, she would know that the promise made many centuries ago had been broken. She would render her judgement without fail, and then it would all be over.

That, and only that, was Sephiran's agenda.


	30. Shattered Souls

_AN: As you probably can tell from the way the story is progressing, the conclusion to Elincia's tale is drawing near. The following chapter marks the beginning of the fourth and final part. _

_Also, I've been very happy about the many positive reviews I got, and I hope that you will enjoy the climax of the story as much as the earlier parts.  
_

* * *

Part IV: Queen of Order

**  
Chapter 30: Shattered Souls**

The battle against the Empire had ended in a decisive victory, but like after every other battle, there were a number of things for the survivors to do, and few of them pleasant. Crimea and her allies scoured the battlefield to save their wounded and retrieve their fallen, while the dead Imperial soldiers were unceremoniously thrown on the enormous pyre that had once been Flaguerre. Overseeing the grim proceedings, Elincia estimated that the Empire had lost far more soldiers in the massacre than during the battle proper, and wondered just how many more red-armored corpses there would have been if not for Ike's insubordination. Would she have had the stomach to watch an army of perhaps fifty thousand soldiers killed to the last man, or would she have revoked her own order at a certain point? Elincia found that she could not answer that question, and dismissed it as useless hypothetical.

_Regardless, it is a fact that more than half of the Central Army escaped. Crimea is still in danger._

Elincia summoned Naesala and Micaiah and announced that the armies of Daein and Kilvas would stay mobilized and in Crimean territory for a while longer. Predictably enough, neither of them was happy about this decision: Naesala in particular claimed the need to return to Kilvas, out of fear that King Tibarn might exact his revenge for the raven's sneak attack during the previous war. Seeing that this sneak attack had been forced on him by the Senate, Elincia felt some sympathy for him, but she could not let him leave.

"Even if Phoenicis attacks your nation, the civilians of your tribe should be safe as long as they don't offer any resistance. For all his violent tendencies, King Tibarn isn't one to kill women and children."

"Unlike you," Naesala replied, but Elincia had anticipated his remark. "Unlike me," she agreed. "He's more of a warrior than a king, with a code of honor that goes along with it."

"I never could stand him," Naesala admitted, "but now that I've had the displeasure of getting to know you better, I find that Tibarn isn't so bad after all. Maybe after I take the blood pact from you and shred you to pieces, I will make up with him and... oops, I said too much." There was not a hint of humor in the Raven King's voice.

"You do not even seek to hide your intentions?" Elincia asked. She knew that she was safe in Naesala's presence for as long as the blood pact remained in Melior, since any attack on her person would bring the complete annihilation of Kilvas. "That's very bold of you."

"Why should I hide what is written all over my face?" Naesala spat. "Kilvas will do whatever you ask us to, but if you ever expose your back to us..." He did not finish his sentence, but the murderous intent in his eyes was clear.

"Then I'd better be careful," Elincia said, unimpressed by the Raven King's impotent threats. "I will return to the capital soon, and leave you and your soliders stationed in Fort Pinell. You are too make regular scouting flights into Imperial territory and report your findings to General Geoffrey, who will also remain behind." She made a step toward the laguz king, and though he was almost two feet taller than her, he seemed to shrink a little when she approached him. "If you happen to... 'overlook' any development that would be of interest for Crimea, your people will have to suffer the consequences. Do we understand each other?"

"Perfectly," Naesala said between clenched teeth. "Now please excuse me, before I throw up on your beautiful visage." Without waiting for Elincia's leave, he flapped his wings and took to the sky.

"Why are you treating him so horribly?" Micaiah, who until now had listened in silence, stepped forward and addressed Elincia, her voice cautiously low, but her expression one of righteous indignation. "You know he won't disobey you, so why do you threaten him like that? Why are you rubbing salt in the wound?"

"Because Naesala is a prideful king, and pride can make people do foolish things," Elincia replied. "The sooner I break down that pride of his, the sooner he will drop the many schemes he is no doubt entertaining in his mind at this very moment. And besides," she raised her eyebrows, "shouldn't you be happy that he's the one being treated horribly, not you?"

"I do not find comfort in the misfortune of others," Micaiah said haughtily. "And I feel for him because I am in the exact same situation as him."

"Not quite the same," Elincia corrected the young Daein general. "You have been much more pliable so far, which is why I have no need to threaten and humiliate you. There can be no doubt that you share Naesala's hatred for me, but unlike him, you try to conceal it."

"I don't hate you!" Micaiah extended her empty palms toward Elincia, a pleading look in her golden eyes. "I have no desire for revenge! If you release Daein from the blood pact now, I swear to you by all that is holy that we'll go straight home, and that I'll explain your quandary to King Pelleas. Our nations should be friends and allies – not master and slave!"

"How conciliatory you sound," Elincia remarked. "Completely different from the last time we talked." _She wants me to lower my guard. But there's no way I'll release Daein from the ties that bind her to me._

"I... I spent some time thinking about the dilemma you faced," Micaiah said hesitantly. "How you did what you had to do to save your country in a horrible situation. I talked to a friend about it, and he made me realize that there's really not much of a difference between us."

"A friend," Elincia said, and only now noticed that Micaiah's constant companion Sothe was not at her side. "What happened to him?"

"He was injured during the battle, but he will be fine... eventually," Micaiah said, unable to hide the concern in her voice. "He always speaks frankly to me," she added, and her voice seemed to drift off a little. "He's the only one who does."

_She loves him_, Elincia realized. _It's obvious._ She knew from her own experience how important it was to have at least one person who was open with you.

"I'm glad that you tried to put yourself in my shoes," Elincia said. "And we may find out that we have much more in common than we would expect. But in light of the current crisis, I cannot release Daein."

"If not now," Micaiah gulped, "then perhaps... in the future?" She suddenly looked very small and fragile, and Elincia had to fight the urge to embrace her. "Perhaps," she said tentatively, loath to make a promise she could not keep. "The time may come when the blood pact will no longer be necessary to maintain the alliance between our nations... but not now. Not today."

"I understand," Micaiah sighed. Unlike Naesala, who had chosen the path of open hostility, she seemed to hope that a more friendly approach might serve her better in the long term.

_The fact that I didn't kill a thousand of her people may have something to do with that, too._

"For the time being, I want you and your soldiers to go to the capital along with my own Crimean forces," Elincia told Micaiah. "I want my people to see that Daein is no longer our enemy."

"As you wish," Micaiah said. "But we have almost run out of supplies, so–"

"I will give you gold for bying grain on the markets of Melior," Elincia offered. "Not a fortune, but enough to sustain your soldiers."

"I gratefully accept," Micaiah said with her eyes cast down. Of course she was not truly grateful – she might not hate Elincia like Naesala did, but she certainly resented her predicament. However, Elincia found that it was much easier to talk to Micaiah than to the Raven King, as she did not have to be deliberately cruel and callous in her presence. There was a layer of civility coating their interactions, and though it was mostly artificial and probably not very thick, it was enough to make Elincia feel less loathsome about herself.

"You can go now," she told Micaiah. "Go to your... to Sothe. Geoffrey will tell you when to depart for Melior."

"By your leave," Micaiah replied formally and quickly left Elincia's presence. For a short while, the Queen of Crimea watched the blazing remains of Flaguerre with a strange feelings of emptiness, until the sight of the flames reminded her of something. _The Fire Emblem_, she thought and put her hand on her belt pouch. There was no vibration now, and no warmth, but Elincia had not forgotten the droning crescendo of the medallion's rhythmic beating during the apex of the battle.

_I took an enormous risk today... and who knows? If not for Ike's disobedience, the entire continent might be burning now, not just Flaguerre._ That thought made Elincia feel a little better about letting most of the Central Army escape, even as she dreaded what the Empire might do next.

_On the plus side, it's unlikely there'll be another battle as fierce as this one. Unless the war escalates, the dark god will probably stay put. I have it all under control._

The sudden clearing of a throat behind her roused Elincia from her thoughts about dark gods and worlds ending and made her turn around. "Hello, Geoffrey," she said after she recognized her general. He was looking rather depressed, with both head and shoulders hanging low and a mournful look in his eyes. His armor was stained with blood all over, which made it impossible to tell whether he had been injured himself. But in spite of his clearly miserable state, he still managed to smile at Elincia. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I probably should. The guilt is not crushing me..." She smiled sadly. "That's bad, isn't it?"

"Not being crushed is not bad," Geoffrey said. He looked as if he was not far away from being crushed himself, and Elincia feared that she had pushed him to the limits of what he was capable of doing. "You did what you deemed necessary, and we all followed you," he added with a passable imitation of conviction.

"Not everyone did," Elincia pointed out.

"Yes, I heard about Sir Ike." Geoffrey's expression became unreadable, which made Elincia wonder whether he envied or condemned Ike for his bold – inconvenient, but certainly bold – decision. "Given his skills, he should have no trouble finding gainful employment outside of Crimea," Geoffrey added after some hesitation. It did not seem like a very pertinent thing to say, and Elincia surmised that he had not made up his mind yet about Ike's insubordination. "How are the soldiers feeling?" she asked in order to change the subject. "It's not everday that they get an order to... an order like this."

"Well, there's at least one who enjoyed himself," Geoffrey said and pointed at the black-armored figure standing next to a corpse pile, eyeing it like a family treasure. He was standing with his back to Elincia, but she could imagine that his expression was nothing short of ecstatic. "He's a monster, no doubt about it," Geoffrey said and shuddered visibly. "I still find it hard to believe that he's actually–"

"Let's not talk about Bertram," Elincia interrupted him. Recently, she had become quite good at forgetting the man Bertram had once been, and she did not wish for Geoffrey to ruin her progress.

"If you wish," Geoffrey replied. "But if... _this_," he pointed at the pile of dead Imperial soldiers that slowly shrunk as the corpses were thrown into the fire, "is what it takes to make him happy, then I hope he'll be very unhappy for the rest of his life."

"I didn't actually have Bertram's happiness foremost on my mind when I asked you how the soldiers were doing," Elincia said.

"Of course not. It's just that he's remarkable... in a very scary way." Geoffrey took a deep breath. "Actually, most of the soldiers didn't seem much affected by your order. They were killing the people who had been trying to kill them right until a moment ago, so they probably felt perfectly justified. However..." He hesitated for an instant. "If you had taken the enemy prisoner and ordered them executed later, I think many of our soldiers would have protested. Once the rush of the battlefield wears off, and the enemy is no longer a threat, considerations change, and pity rears its head."

"I hope I don't sound too horrible when I say that I'll keep this closely in mind for... for the next time," Elincia said.

"Actually, it does sound horrible," Geoffrey admitted. "But that has nothing in particular to do with you... it would sound horrible coming out of everybody's mouth. We'll just have to wait and see what the Empire does. I mean, even the Senate has to see reason at some point in time, right?"

"I guess so," Elincia said, although she was not particularly convinced. "Then we'll stay alert and wait." She closed her eyes and sighed. "But at least I didn't alienate my own soldiers. That's something to be grateful for."

"Ah... in that regard..." Geoffrey's hesitation put Elincia on alert immediately, and she opened her eyes again. "Yes?" she asked cautiously.

"I said that most soldiers weren't much affected," Geoffrey said unhappily. "But a few of them... well, you'd best see for yourself."

"Very well," Elincia said. Unsure what to expect, she followed Geoffrey for a short while until they reached a small group of Crimean soldiers sitting or lying on the ground. A quick glance told Elincia that none of them seemed seriously injured, but many of them were sobbing or screaming uncontrollably, while others just stared into the distance with empty, hazy eyes. One soldier was holding a cup of water, but his hands kept shaking so badly that he could not drink, and had already spilled much of the liquid. Another soldier, a young woman, had apparently broken her lance over her knees and was now covering in the grass, crying silently into her palms. She was wearing the white (though blood-stained) armor of a Crimean halberdier, but the long, green hair prompted immediate recognition in Elincia..

"Nephenee!" she cried out and dropped to her knees next to the crying woman. "Are you all right?" She cursed herself for that stupid question almost immediately – she was evidently not all right! None of these soldiers were!

"Who... who are you?" Nephenee's eyes were awash with tears, making it impossible for her to recognize Elincia. "Leave me alone," she said weakly and looked at the ground.

"It's me, Elincia! Don't you recognize my voice?"

"Leave me alone," Nephenee cried again, with no sign that she had recognized her queen. "Go away."

"It seems she joined the regular army just a few days before the battle," Geoffrey's voice sounded behind Elincia. "Like all of these soldiers, her soul was damaged by the things she did." He closed his eyes and lowered his head. "I'm sorry for showing this to you, but I believe you needed to see them."

"See the consequences of my actions, you mean," Elincia rasped. Somehow, these ten or twelve soldiers who looked like puppets with their strings broken were more terrifying to her than the thousands and thousands of dead. These people had become butchers on her behalf, and it had shattered or at least grievously injured their minds. And although all of them were suffering in way Elincia could probably not even imagine, she felt most for Nephenee, perhaps because of their similar age, or because of the fact that she could have avoided all this if she had just stayed in her home village and not bothered with the war.

_I'd tell then I'm sorry, but that would just be mockery in their eyes._

"I don't want to kill them," Nephenee suddenly whispered. She was looking at Elincia again, though whether she had recognized the queen was anybody's guess. "I don't want to!" She sounded like she was caught in a perpetual nightmare, reliving the battle – or rather, the massacre following it – once again. "But I'm so scared and people are pushing from behind and why is there all this blood and..." Her gaze lost focus, and she buried her face in her hands again and continued to cry. Elincia wanted to help her, help all of these people, but she knew that these were wounds of the soul, not the flesh, that no healing staff in the world could cure.

"Why do others have to pay the price for my decisions?" Elincia asked in Geoffrey's direction, unable to avert her gaze from the shattered souls before her. "I should be in their stead, crying and trembling and..." She did not know what to say. "Was this really worth it?"

"I think it might be... if it results in Crimea's continued survival," Geoffrey replied. "And the damage is done anyway. But... I hope you will keep this, too, closely in mind for the next time."

"I understand." Finally, Elincia could turn away and faced Geoffrey, whose face had turned into an expressionless mask. "You did the right thing. I... I must know these things. I must know the pain I cause. So that when a day comes on which the pain is no longer worth the results, I will know when to stop."

"I wonder if that day will ever come."

"I don't know, Geoffrey. I just don't know." Elincia thought there were tears in her eyes and tried to wipe them away with her fingers, but she had been mistaken: Her face was still perfectly dry.

_Then why did I feel as if I was crying?_ she wondered, and found the answer immediately: _Because this is a situation where a human being should cry, must cry._ But there were no tears, neither on her face nor on Geoffrey's. _What does that say about us? _

_I don't know._

Elincia simply stood there for a little while, listening to the cries and screams behind her, feeling afloat in a strange, horrible world that consisted only of misery and sorrow. Something told her that she must not stay in this world for much longer, or she would be drawn into it and might never be able to return – and then all the suffering would have been in vain.

"I'm leaving, Geoffrey," she announced. "I... I must return to the capital and announce the news of our victory. Please follow me with the army as soon as everything is taken care of here."

"You can rely on me, Elincia," Geoffrey said. "What shall I do about them?" he asked and pointed in the direction of Nephenee and the others.

"Make sure they're escorted to their homes," Elincia said, "and see to it that they'll receive a rent for the rest of their lives. Some of them might recover, but most will would probably never be able to fight or work again."

"I'll see to it that they're taken care of... as much as is possible," Geoffrey replied. From one moment to the next, the mask on his face dissolved, and he looked at Elincia with sad, but caring eyes. She wanted to tell him that he was wasting her sympathy on her, that the poor, broken soldiers behind her were much more deserving of it, but he spoke before she could.

"I'm still with you, Elincia," he said softly. "If you've become a villain, then so have I. You're not alone in all this. Never forget that."

Rather than saying anything in response, Elincia nodded silently and squeezed Geoffrey's hands just long enough to express her gratitude. Without looking back at Nephenee and the others, she went to find her pegasus, took to the sky and began her flight towards Melior. But even over the noise made by the wind and by the beating of Atlas' wings, she could still hear the sounds of people crying as if she was being accompanied by a host of wailing ghosts.


	31. Reunion and Farewell

**Chapter 31: Reunion and Farewell**

The castle of the King of Beasts was a massive stone structure, situated on top of a high hill in the midst of the large forests of Gallia. The last time Ike had been here, the Greil Mercenaries had been escaping from Crimea while protecting Princess Elincia. Now, they were fleeing Crimea again, because that same Elincia had banished them forever from her nation. The irony was rather thick, but Ike could not find it in himself to appreciate it as he was led into the vast halls of the castle, on his way to an audience with King Caineghis.

Ike had spent much time during the journey through Serenes and Gallia talking with Mist, Titania and others about the possible reasons for Elincia's change in personality, and only then had he realized that he had neglected that subject for too long. They had agreed that she must have lost someone very dear to her – probably Lucia or Bastian or both, since neither of them had been spotted by anybody in Fort Pinell or around Flaguerre. That, plus the aftereffects of the Ludveck rebellion and the sudden declaration of war by the Empire must have been what had pushed her over the edge – but was that really everything? Ike was not so sure, but then again, he had never been very good at figuring out what went on in peoples' minds.

"Humans can cope with many hardships and losses," Titania had told him, and she was certainly speaking from personal experience. "But there must be time to deal with them, to accept and come to terms with what happened. However, if someone suffers a barrage of calamities with no chance to recover, the effects don't just add up, but multiply and reinforce each other. It's like an army that must fight of waves and waves of attackers... no matter how strong they are, if they don't get an opportunity to rest and resupply, they will eventually fall."

Ike had found Titania's metaphor quite helpful, probably because it described the situation in terms he was familiar with, and decided that she must be right: Elincia had simply not been able to take a break from the hardships of her position (or not allowed herself to take one – how typical of her!), and as a consequence, had suffered mentally. But just as he had promised her several days ago, he was not going to give up on her, not while there was still a chance that she might be restored to her old self.

It was with that thought firmly in mind that Ike entered King Caineghis' throne room alongside Titania (Soren had declined to come along, since apparently his dislike of the laguz was still a powerful force). After being checked for weapons by two massive tiger laguz guarding the door, they were admitted and quickly crossed the distance to the throne; unlike most other throne room's Ike had been in, its size was rather modest. Apparently, the builders of this castle had not judged it necessary to impress visitors with monumental architecture and unreasonably huge rooms.

The castle's current occupant, in particular, did not need architecture to convey his power to others, Ike noted when he beheld King Caineghis, who was as impressive a sight as ever. Draped in a white robe, he stood in front of his throne, his muscular arms crossed before his broad chest and his long, red mane flowing around his shoulders. His physical appearance was rather imposing, especially considering the competition: To the sides of the throne stood the king's shadow, Giffca, his nephew Skrimir and his fellow laguz king Tibarn, each of whom came close to matching the king of beasts in sheer size. Not for the first time Ike wondered how he would fare in a match of strength against Caineghis, but right now was really not the time for that.

"Greetings, King Caineghis," Ike said when he and his companions had reached the throne. "As well as to you, King Tibarn. And Skrimir." He deliberately neglected to greet Giffca, seeing as Caineghis had once told him to treat his shadow as he would treat the air, although doing so made him feel slightly impolite.

"Welcome to my castle, Ike and Titania," the King of Gallia said in his deep, warm voice. His gaze lingered on Titania's eyepatch for moment, but he did not comment on it. "How was your journey?"

"Could have been worse," Ike replied. "At least we didn't have to take the way through the Kauku Caves this time."

"I was surprised when my scouts told me that you were approaching from Serenes Forest," Caineghis said, and Ike noticed a hint of concern in his voice. The secret path from Serenes to Gallia through an overgrown mountain pass was secret for a reason, since an attacker could easily use it to enter Gallia while bypassing most of her defenses. "But I assume you wouldn't have taken that way without good reason."

"I am afraid we had no choice." Ike hesitated for a moment, wondering how he should present the news, then decided not to beat around the bush. "My company and I have been exiled from Crimea. Forever." His announcement had Caineghis at a loss, but not his fellow laguz king. "What has that crazy woman done this time?" Tibarn bellowed. "Did she punish you for helping us in the war against the accursed Empire?"

"No, it's not like that," Ike said hastily. _It's much worse_. "But I should start at the beginning... have you heard about the battle of Flaguerre?"

"Only that the Central Army was defeated and the city destroyed completely," Caineghis said, an uncharacteristically anxious expression on his face. "But no details as to the how and why."

"I can give you all the details you'd want," Ike sighed. "Though you may find it hard to believe some of them..."

Ike spent the next few minutes giving Caineghis and the others a short summary of the events that had transpired at Flaguerre, and Titania confirmed his words when the king of beasts almost failed to believe them. Tibarn was much more credulous, commenting the tale of Elincia's atrocity with a disdainful sneer, while Skrimir did not seem to have much of a problem with it. Giffca was his usual stoic self, and if Ike had not known better, he would have thought that the black lion was not even listening.

"This is a most disturbing tale," Caineghis said after reflecting on Ike's unpleasant story. He looked like he wanted to sit down and brood about what he had learned, but did not allow himself to do so. "But regardless of the ramifications, let me first repeat the offer I made you three years ago: You and any member of your company are welcome to live in Gallia, now that you have lost your home... again." He gave Titania a concerned look. "I especially would like you to settle down and lay down your axe for good," he said. "You are no longer in a condition to fight."

"I respectfully disagree, Your Highness," Titania replied. "And I will stay with the Greil Mercenaries for as long as I can be useful." Her voice was surprisingly calm, seeing as she had promised Ike to raise hell if he ever dared to suggest she retire. _This is a clear double standard_, he thought, but then he remembered that Titania had already known Caineghis when Ike had still been a child. Or maybe it was because one did not yell at a king.

"If you truly think so, Titania, then I will speak no more of it," Caineghis said solemnly. "However, you should keep in mind that you'll have little employment opportunities in Gallia, since few beorc ever venture here."

"I'm sorry, but I must decline your offer once again," Ike said to Caineghis. "Because I have no intention of accepting Elincia's verdict."

"Hear, hear," Tibarn said and clapped his hands. "I would have expected no less of you, Ike. Know that most of the Hawk army is still resting in Gallia, and that I'll gladly join your cause if you want to depose that woman."

"No, no!" Ike raised his palms and shook his head. "You misunderstand my intent, Tibarn. I have no intention of going to war against Crimea... at least not unless I absolutely have to." The mere thought of taking up arms against Elincia, whom he had protected for so long and even admired in some ways, was enough to make Ike feel queasy. However, he could not deny the possibility that in her current state, she would come to consider him an enemy at some point in the future. If that happened... well, Ike was not a man to lay down his sword and let himself be killed.

"Then what do you intend to do?" Tibarn asked gruffly "Try to make her see reason while sharing memories of your time together?" Ike did not like the sneer in his voice, and said as much. "You were part of a few of these memories, too," he reminded the Hawk King. "You should know that the Elincia we talked and laughed and fought with would never have refused to give an enemy quarter. Something is wrong with her, and I intend to fix it."

"That attitude is admirable," Caineghis said before Tibarn had a chance to answer. The Lion King scratched his bearded chin and sighed deeply before continuing. "But perhaps too idealistic. I am afraid that whatever is wrong with Queen Elincia may not be something that can be easily fixed... at least not without changing the way the world works at the same time."

"I never said it would be easy," Ike replied. "You know that I'm not afraid of a challenge."

"No, I could not say that in good conscience," Caineghis said, and a brief smile flickered across his face. "And I will support your efforts by inviting Queen Elincia to my court someday soon, so that you have a chance to meet and talk to her. In fact, I would like to have such a chance myself."

"By all means, invite her here," Tibarn scoffed. "Just warn me in time so I can get out of this place before she arrives."

"I think it would be best if you were to talk over your differences with her, Hawk King," Caineghis said. "Although I'm afraid your mind is set on this matter."

"Don't pretend that my anger at that woman is unwarranted, Lion King," Tibarn replied, his voice tense. "The herons are under my protection – the only protection they have left in this sorry world! I will not even consider forgiving her until she apologizes to Reyson and Leanne on her knees."

"I'll be sure to deliver that message to her," Ike said in an attempt to dispel the tense atmosphere between the two laguz kings. "But I won't be waiting for her in this place. I intend to come to her."

"Ike!" Titania said sharply. "She banished us from Crimea and threatened you with death if you crossed her. I sympathize with your wish to help her, but you can't risk your life like that!"

"I've risked my life more often than I can count," Ike replied promptly. "And many of those times I was risking it for Elincia."

"Things were different then," Titania asserted.

"Things may have been different, but Elincia is still Elincia." Ike had no intention of being talked out of keeping his promise, not by Titania or anybody else. "And I won't ask anybody to come with me. In fact, I insist on going alone."

"We will all respect your decision in that matter," Caineghis assured Ike. "However, I think it would be wise for you to wait a couple of days before you departed. At the very least, you need to come up with a good plan to reach Queen Elincia without being noticed."

"Stealth is not exactly my specialty," Ike was quick to admit. "And we had little rest on our way here, so I'll accept your offer. I'll wait for a day or two, but no more than that."

"Splendid." Caineghis nodded and looked at Skrimir, who had been remarkably silent during the conversation – whether he had no opinion about Elincia or simply respectful of his uncle's authority, Ike did not know. "I hope you paid close attention, nephew. Even if we find the actions a foreign ruler takes in defense of her nation distasteful and are personally disappointed, we must not let that disappointment cloud our judgement." The saddened tone in his voice made it clear that Elincia's actions had affected him, too. "As a king, you have to stomach some distasteful things for the sake of maintaining good relations with our neighbors."

"I do not find the slaying of enemy soldiers distasteful, uncle," Skrimir said. When talking with his uncle, he seemed to be choosing his words with greater care, but was still as frank and straightforward as always. "In the heat of battle, it is often hard to stop yourself even if the enemy has given up."

"And that's a weakness we laguz should strive to overcome... particularly we of the beast tribe."

"I know, uncle," Skrimir replied before addressing Ike. "Never mind the other things Queen Elincia did – banishing you for standing up to your beliefs is unacceptable! She should be more grateful to the people who helped her in the past."

"Thanks, Skrimir," Ike replied. "And it's not like I'm not angry with her... it's just that I can't give up on her. At least not yet."

"You're much too nice for a mercenary," Tibarn sighed. "Maybe that's why people like me so much," Ike replied with a dry grin, again trying to combat the tense atmosphere in the room. "And besides–"

Ike never completed his sentence, because the instantaneous appearance of a large, black shape right behind King Caineghis took his breath away – a _very_ familiar shape. He tried to cry out a warning to the unsuspecting Lion King, but he was too slow to prevent the calamity.

"Queen Elincia sends her regards," the Black Knight said and thrust his sword Alondite in Caineghis' back. The King of Gallia gasped silently as he beheld the sacred blade protruding from his waist, and managed to turn his head around to face his assassin.

"You!"

At the same moment, a deafening roar resounded within the walls of the throne room, and a large, black lion threw himself at the Black Knight, sending the steel-clad warrior flying like a doll. His sword was still stuck in Caineghis' body, but the Lion King seemed to be in no particular hurry to die. "Skrimir," he spoke to his nephew who was just about to transform and join Giffca in mauling his uncle's assassin, "stay right here!" It was testament to the uncle's authority over the nephew that even in a situation as this, Skrimir obeyed.

_The Black Knight! How did he get in here?_ Ike was in utter confusion even as he cursed his lack of a weapon. _And why did he..._

"You cowardly wretch!" Tibarn yelled in righteous anger, transformed and threw himself at the Black Knight, who was already suffering greatly under Giffca's relentless assault. Without his sword, all the nameless knight could do was fend off his attackers' blows with his limbs, but that only bought him a few seconds against the two enraged laguz. Ike found himself staring open-mouthed along with Titania, watching what could hardly be called a battle. And even if they had not looked, the sounds of armor being ripped apart, bones being broken and a man roaring in agony behind his helmet would have been enough to tell them who was losing.

_This is my fight!_ Ike thought helplessly even as the Black Knight stopped resisting and, a few seconds later, stopped screaming. _I should be in their stead! I should be defeating him!_ The question how the Black Knight had come here took second seat to the realization that his chance to avenge his father was being taken from him. Should he rush in, even without a sword? If he could just get his hands on him...

"Stay put, Ike," Titania said and touched his shoulder. "You'll be killed if you rush in and put yourself between him and those two."

"I know that," Ike said between his teeth. "But it's difficult!"

"You defeated him already," Titania said and pointed at the crazed laguz clawing at the Black Knight's body. "They are merely killing him now."

Ike nodded. He knew that there was often a difference between defeating and killing an enemy. "You know how to put things in words I understand," he told his deputy commander, who smiled grimly. "That's my job," she said. "Now let's look at King Caineghis. He may not be beyond saving."

Ike nodded weakly, but he knew from a single glance that Titania was wrong: The Black Knight had had time for only one strike, and he had make it count. His sword had impaled Caineghis' waist, no doubt destroying several vital organs, and even a man as strong and powerful as the King of Gallia with his laguz healing power could not hope to survive a wound such as this. But he was standing on his feet even now, talking in a soft voice to his nephew, his face tranquil and calm when it should be contorted in agony. Skrimir, on the other hand, was trembling and breathing in sharp gasps as if he was the one who had been stabbed. Before his mind's eye, Ike saw his father dying from a very similar wound, killed by the same person as Caineghis. He knew exactly how Skrimir was feeling right now.

"I can't do this," the young lion said nervously. "I'm not ready! I thought I was, but I realized that there are so many things I've yet to learn..."

"And learn them you will," Caineghis replied with a strained voice. He was looking only at his nephew, and neither Ike nor Titania felt they had any right to draw his attention from him. "Ranulf and Giffca will support you... as will all Gallians." In spite of the pain he had to be in, he managed to smile. "A king does not rule alone, or there would be no kings."

"I still can't do it!" Skrimir yelled. "Compared to you, I'm weak and stupid!"

"Do not belittle yourself, my nephew," the dying king said sternly. "I did not choose you as my successor only because of your blood. I chose you because I believed you had the makings of a good king. And I still believe that."

"If you say so." Skrimir clenched his fists and lowered his head. "If you say so."

"Raise your head and look me in the eyes as I pass away," Caineghis demanded. "You've seen your fair share of death. Mine will be no different."

"But it will," Skrimir said hoarsely.

"Your Majesty!" a deep, desperate voice cried out. Giffca had transformed back and appeared at the side of his master, falling to his knees before him. "I failed you! I allowed this to happen!" Ike had rarely heard him talk before, but he could tell that he was devastated. "Please, with your last breath, punish me!" Giffca demanded.

"I will do no such thing," Caineghis coughed. His voice was growing noticeably weaker. "In fact, I will forgive you, for no one could have been prepared for this attack."

"No!" Giffca screamed, and tears appeared in his eyes. "I do not deserve your forgiveness. Protecting you was my one task in life!"

"Then I shall give you a new one." Caineghis nodded in Skrimir's direction.

"No, I am not worthy to–"

"Skrimir," Caineghis said loudly, summoning what was left of his strength to empower his voice. "Very soon now, you will be king. Swear to me that you will always do what's best for Gallia."

"I swear," Skrimir replied without hesitation.

"Good." The Lion King looked at his shadow. "Heed me, Giffca. Skrimir will be your master now. Swear to me that you'll protect him as you always protected me."

"But I _failed_ to protect you," the Black Lion said. "I must refuse."

"You may have failed me once, but if all the good men in the world were to give up after one failure, it would be a very sorry world indeed," Caineghis said. "I do not accept your refusal," he added with no room for debate. Giffca's face was strained as he fought an internal battle for no more than a few seconds. Then he bowed before his king and said: "I swear."

"I'll swear something, too, while we're at it." Tibarn had transformed back and joined the group, prompting Ike to peer at the Black Knight who was lying in a pool of blood in a corner of the throne room, his body mangled and savaged, but his head (and helmet) still on his shoulders. "I swear that I'll avenge you, King of Beasts!" Tibarn growled.

"I appreciate the notion, but... didn't you do that just now?"

"That man was only a pawn!" Tibarn spat in the direction of the Black Knight. "You heard his words. He was sent by that woman... by Queen Elincia!"

"What?" Ike could not believe his ears. "How can you say such a thing?"

"It is what the Black Knight said," Titania said gently. "You heard him say it, didn't you?"

"Of course I heard him say it!" Ike shook his head in anger. "But that doesn't make it true! The Black Knight..."

"...used to work for Daein," Tibarn interrupted him, "and as you yourself just told us, Daein has been enslaved by Crimea."

"But that makes no sense," Ike protested, still unwilling to believe that Elincia had ordered the death of Caineghis, of all people. "Why would he have mentioned her name if it had been sworn to secrecy?" But Tibarn was quick to offer an explanation.

"Slaves resent their masters," he said. "And he knew he was being sent on a suicide mission, so he gave away her name out of spite. That's what I would have done."

"I find it... hard to believe," Caineghis said before Ike could come with a suitable retort for Tibarn's accusation. "King Ramon's daughter... the Elincia I knew..." He coughed up blood, and Ike wondered how in the world he was still standing, with Alondite still lodged in his mid-section. Or perhaps it was because the sword was still stuck in his body – if it had been removed, he might have succumbed to his wound already. "She would not... want to see me dead," Caineghis finished.

"All the proof you need is right there!" Tibarn said and pointed at the corpse of the Black Knight. "This body and Ike's words condemn that woman!"

"I... find it... hard to believe," Caineghis said again. This time, his words were difficult to understand, for his voice was finally growing weak. "But I'm afraid... I'll never know for sure..." He took a deep, painful breath and looked at Ike and Titania. "Children of Wisdom... you must uncover... the truth..."

"I will," Ike said simply. Caineghis nodded weakly, and a contented smile came over his face. His eyes fell shut and his breathing stopped, but even after several minutes of dead silence and many an anguished stare, he did not collapse or fall over.

The Red Lion King had died standing.

_He always seemed too larger-than-life to die_, Ike thought. Just like after his father's death, he was unable to shed as much as a tear for Caineghis. On the other hand, Titania was crying openly, and even the stoic Giffca had tears in his eyes. Ike decided to leave the mourning to those who could do it properly and quickly walked over to the corpse of the Black Knight. The identity of his father's killer had been a mystery for over three years, and today, that mystery would finally be solved.

Giffca and Tibarn had done thorough work, Ike noted when he reached the corpse: The Black Knight's armor had been ripped from his body in many places, the flesh beneath torn and mangled, and his limbs were at awkward angles with the rest of his body. Most of his bones had probably been broken, and on closer inspection, his right arm had actually been torn off completely. Whoever he was, there was no doubting that the Black Knight was dead.

Ike knelt down next to the body of his fallen nemesis, seized the surprisingly undamaged helmet and began pulling it. It did not come off immediately, so he pulled harder, unafraid of tearing off an ear or two, and with a jerky movement yanked the helmet off the Black Knight's head.

_Now I'll finally know..._

The man's face was red with blood and scraped-off skin, but not so disfigured that he was beyond recognition. He had short dark hair and his eyes were closed, as if he had resigned himself to his fate moments before the end. The second Ike saw his face, he knew with complete certainty that he had met the man before, but after inspecting him for several seconds, he did not remember who it was. He decided to pull back the man's eyelids, and only after seeing the blue-green, somewhat melancholic eyes did he realize who he was looking at.

"This makes no sense!" Ike said out loud. "I would have noticed when I... I mean..." He shook his head in disbelief. "Why on earth would he...?"

"Ike? Did you unmask him?" Titania walked up to him from behind, eager to know who had murdered her beloved Commander Greil as well as her friend Caineghis. "Let me see!" She sounded sad and excited at the same time, with curiosity getting the better of grief..

"Him?" Ike felt vaguely satisfied when he looked at Titania's confused face after she had knelt down next to him; she was clearly just as surprised as he was. "Why him?"

"What are you two babbling about?" Tibarn appeared behind Ike and Titania. "Let me take a look at the bastard. Maybe I'll tear off his face for good measure." He pushed himself between the two beorc and gasped when he saw the Black Knight's face. "You can't be serious!"

"Well? Who is he?" Skrimir called out from near the throne. "Do I know him?"

"You wouldn't believe it if we told you," Tibarn said, "so come over here." Skrimir did as he had been asked, and only after he knelt down next to the others and said "I don't believe it!" did Ike start to laugh. It was just too ridiculous for words.

"Why is General Zelgius the Black Knight of Daein?" Tibarn finally asked the question that was on everybody's mind. "How could he even have done it? In the battle at Ribahn River, both Zelgius and the Black Knight were present."

"But not at the same place, nor at the same time," Titania pointed out. "Both Tibarn and Ranulf encountered Zelgius, who then wasn't seen for a while... and the Black Knight only joined Daein's forces after some time had passed. And since he can apparently move by magical means, it could have worked."

"Changing his armor, teleporting around, risking discovery... for what reason?" Tibarn asked. "And why didn't we notice it earlier?"

"I never saw him take the field as Zelgius," Ike realized, "or I would have recognized his fighting style in an instant. And you and Skrimir... both of you fought him as Zelgius, but not as the Black Knight."

"I see," Skrimir growled. "So he spared my life only to murder my uncle later? He's not a knight, just a dirty assassin!"

"I'm wondering," Tibarn said. "Wasn't there somebody who fought both Zelgius and the Black Knight?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, that would be Ranulf," Ike agreed. "The Black Knight three years ago in Port Toha, and Zelgius near the Ribahn River. So he must have noticed it, or at least suspected." He shook his head and laughed. "He really could have said something."

"Maybe he wanted to wait until he had proof?" Tibarn suggested.

"That sounds like him. Stupid cat." Ike hesitated as another question posed itself. "But why didn't Zelgius fight for Daein against Crimea during the recent war? Surely, if Daein's future was at stake, he would have..."

"Ike, didn't you tell me that Zelgius was Elincia's prisoner?" Titania suddenly asked. "That would explain why he wasn't–" Even though his question had prompted her answer, Ike gave Titania an angry glare to make her shut up. Did she not realize what she was saying? But Tibarn had heard her words and raised his head.

"Elincia's prisoner? I see. That confirms it: He was working for her, perhaps to buy his freedom in the event he survived his mission."

"That's just conjecture," Ike began, but Tibarn cut him off. "How much more proof do you need? Does she have to confess it in person before you believe it?"

"She doesn't even have a motive!" Ike protested. "She did some questionable and even some horrible things, but even so, she always had the welfare of her people in mind. What good would murdering the king of an allied nation do to her?"

"You said she wants to destroy everone who poses a threat to Crimea," Tibarn pointed out.

"But Caineghis was no threat to Crimea!"

"Perhaps Elincia thinks differently? You said she seemed overly cautious and fearful... perhaps paranoid?" The Hawk King rose from the floor, and Skrimir followed. "Do you deny that Elincia would assassinate King Caineghis if she _thought_ he might be a threat?"

"N-no," Ike admitted in spite of himself. Tibarn was being harsh and prejudiced, but he had a point. "She... she said she would kill even me if I crossed her."

"You see?" Tibarn's tone was triumphant. "Certainly, you were much closer to her than the late Caineghis, so it's not a leap of logic to assume that she would have him killed if she thought it brought her an advantage."

"_If_ she thought it!" Ike cried. "If!" He was holding on to that word with all his might, for if Tibarn's theory was correct, Elincia would have done something truly unforgivable – something that would have made her Ike's enemy, which was the one thing he might not be able to bear. "If," he said again, and his voice sounded desperate even to himself.

"You're letting your emotions cloud your judgement, Ike," Tibarn said with a disappointed undertone. "How uncharacteristic of you." He turned to Skrimir, who was scowling so deeply that his face might permanently stay that way. "What about you, Skrimir... or rather, King of Beasts? What do you make of all this?"

"I think what you said made sense, Hawk King," Skrimir replied. "Zelgius was last seen in Crimea, and he fought for Daein, who are allied with Crimea. Therefore, he murdered my uncle on behalf of Crimea. It is the only thing that makes sense."

"But he was also fighting for Begnion!" Ike rose from the floor and looked pleadingly at Skrimir. "And the Empire is at war with Elincia!"

"What's your point?" Tibarn asked. "That Zelgius killed Caineghis and threw away his life just to put the blame on Queen Elincia? That's ridiculous, and you know it!"

"Just as ridiculous as Elincia murdering Caineghis out of paranoia!"

"Enough!" Skrimir barked. "I have made my decision."

"Let's hear it, King of Beasts," Tibarn said. He sounded almost eager, and Ike was afraid of what Skrimir might say. "I don't like this one bit," he whispered to Titania. "Agreed," she replied.

"My uncle has been murdered. That is a fact. Queen Elincia is the main suspect. If she can't prove her innocence, then as the rightful King of Gallia, I must think of this as a declaration of war."

"It doesn't work like that!" Ike said desperately. "She doesn't have to prove her innocence. You have to prove her guilt."

"This is not a court, Ike," Tibarn said. "We can't afford to squabble over technicalities while there's a real threat out there. Zelgius entered this place by magical means..." The Hawk King scowled suddenly. "Which is probably how he abducted Leanne three years ago. Anyway, if he can do it, that means Elincia can do it, too. What if she decides to assassinate other rulers she doesn't like, hm?"

"Such as yourself," Titania said.

"Such as myself," Tibarn nodded. "You all know I'm no coward. There's no enemy I won't face in combat, and I don't fear death on the battlefield. But a death like this..." He pointed at the corpse of King Caineghis, which had been gently lowered to the floor by Giffca and the sword removed from his body. "From behind, without a moment's warning... that's no way for a warrior to die. I won't accept that kind of death."

"So what are you two going to do if Elincia can't prove her innocence?" Ike asked. "Reactivate the laguz alliance and go to war against Crimea?" Rather than answering him immediately, Tibarn and Skrimir faced each other, shared a determined look, and nodded. "Yes," Tibarn said. "That's what we'll do. Will you be with us again?"

"Don't ask such a stupid question!" Ike yelled. "I'll go see Elincia myself and clear up this confusion!" He glared at Skrimir. "And unless you want to tie me up here, I'll reach her much faster than any of your armies!"

"I have no plans of tying you up anywhere," Skrimir said coolly. "I'm the King of Gallia now. I cannot afford to be so childish."

"In that case..." Ike looked at Titania and made a waving motion with his hand. "Come on, we're leaving."

"Yes, commander."

"Wait!"

"What?" Ike stopped in confusion, wondering who had spoken. "Ah, Giffca," he realized and looked at the black-clad laguz standing next to his master's corpse. "What do you want?"

"All of you are acting rashly," Giffca accused. "You are all on the same side. You were all trusted by my master, and he would not want you to part in anger. You can do better than this."

"We've reached different conclusions to a critical question," Tibarn defended himself. "What is there to be done about it?"

"Skrimir," Giffca addressed the young lion, and promptly corrected himself. "No, Your Majesty. Your uncle would have wanted you to avoid war, and work closely together with Ike. He has spent a long time with the Queen of Crimea, and if anybody can find out the truth about her intentions, it is him."

"You forget that he's banished from Crimea," Skrimir said. Giffca's words seemed to have had an effect on him, but he was not one to change his mind easily. "And as Tibarn said, we can't afford to waste time!"

"As I said, I can reach her long before you," Ike said. "And I can guarantee you that I'll get a truthful answer out of her. To this question... and many others."

"Hm..." Tibarn scratched his chin and looked at Ike. "You've been nothing if not reliable in the past... and though I can't understand why you're defending Elincia..." He sighed. "I don't believe you would lie to us. If she were to admit her guilt to you, you would truthfully report it to us, am I correct?"

"You are," Ike said. "And if she can prove her innocence to me, will you forget about going to war?"

"Yes," Tibarn said, although Skrimir looked unhappy at his words. "He might be fooled by her," he said.

"Ike is not the gullible type," Tibarn pointed out. "However, it is possible that she will take him hostage." He frowned deeply. "There is precedence for that."

"If that happens, feel free to treat me as dead and hold a funeral," Ike said quickly. He was positive that Elincia would not imprison him, though Tibarn was unlikely to share that belief. "That way, she won't be able to blackmail you."

"Now that's just ridiculous," Titania said. "You can't just–"

"It's acceptable," Tibarn said, and Skrimir nodded. "So rather than working against each other, we'll be working alongside each other. Ike will go ahead and try to reason with Elincia, while Skrimir and I assemble our armies. We will await your return at the Gallian-Crimean border."

"Agreed," Ike said. "Titania, I want you to take the mercenaries and wait at the border, too. Because... if Elincia cannot prove her innocence, and we cannot prevent war... then we will decide there and then what to do."

_In plain language, we will have to turn against either Tibarn or Elincia, or watch them tear each others' throats out from afar. What a dreadful choice to make._

"Understood, commander," Titania replied morosely, probably thinking the same thing as Ike. "Then you had best leave now."

"One moment, Ike." This time, it was Skrimir who had spoken.

"Yes, what is it?" Ike asked, not even bothering to hide his irritation. They were not trying to slow him down, were they?

"Look at this sword," Skrimir said and walked over to his uncle's corpse. The Black Knight's sacred blade Alondite, red with Caineghis' blood, was lying next to it. "We laguz don't fight with man-made weapons, so we don't have any use for it." He took the sword in his hands and presented it to Ike. "Therefore, I give you this blade as a gift."

"Are... are you sure about this?" Ike asked. "I mean... wouldn't you rather destroy it?"

"Why should I, if it can be put to some use?" Skrimir asked. "I'm no expert on beorc weapons, but it looks to be of the highest quality."

"It most certainly is," Ike said, but felt more than a little uncomfortable with the thought of using the Black Knight's sword. "Can I accept this?" he asked Titania. "I mean... this sword killed my father!"

"It's just a weapon, Ike," Titania said. "It has no will of its own. It did not kill your father, Zelgius did."

"I suppose that makes sense." Ike accepted Alondite out of Skrimir's hands and wiped it clean with his cloak, which was dirty and ruined anyway. When he held it in his hands, he noticed that the sword felt exactly like Ragnell – small wonder, since that was its sister blade. If Ike closed his eyes, he could imagine having his old sword back.

"Thank you, Skrimir," he said. "Rest assured that this sword will never again be used for murder."

"Then giving it to you was already a good idea," Skrimir nodded. He seemed to be coping with his uncle's death exceptionally well, and was already acting more king-like than Ike had ever expected him to be. Now if he could only be talked out of going to war against Crimea...

"Please hold on to this sword for me until our reunion," Ike told Titania and handed Alondite over to her. "I'm going to talk to Elincia, and I won't do it with a weapon in my hand."

"This is dangerous, Ike," Titania said. "Don't you remember her threats?"

"She told me not to cross her," Ike quoted Elincia. "And I won't cross her. Just talk to her."

"Things always sound so easy coming from you," Titania sighed. "Well then, go ahead and leave. I'll be awaiting your return at the border."

"Until then," Ike said and left the throne room without looking back. Caineghis' assassination, as tragic as it was, had not actually changed his plans, merely sped them up: He had been planning to meet Elincia anyway. And this time, he would not let her send him away without some answers.


	32. For Whom the Bell Tolls

**Chapter 32: For Whom the Bell Tolls**

When she left her room in the early morning of the day after Flaguerre, Elincia was greeted by an anxious courtier who seemed to have been waiting for her to get up. "Duke Alm has convened the assembly of nobles for an unscheduled meeting," he said, "and requests the presence of Your Highness as soon as it is convenient."

"Never, then," Elincia said without thinking, and only realized what she had said when the courtier looked at her in shock. "I didn't mean that literally," she informed him, although meetings with Alm and his ilk were among the most unpleasant things she could think of. "Tell them I'll be... no, never mind, I'll go right to the conference room." As much as she disliked the nobles, letting them wait was probably not a good idea; she could take her breakfast after listening to whatever outrageous demand they had come up with during her absence – assuming she would still have an appetite then.

On her way through the palace corridors, Elincia wondered what it was the nobles wanted from her. It had to be important, that much was certain, or Alm would not have called for an unscheduled meeting. Taking travel times into account, he must have notified his peers all over Crimea at least two days ago – presumably as soon as Elincia had left the palace for Fort Pinell. They might have spent as much as the whole night preparing for the confrontation with their unloved queen, who had gone to bed early after returning from Flaguerre (though not without first being told that General Zelgius has escaped from his cell without a trace). By all rights, Alm should have informed her earlier, but he and his peers obviously wished to take her by surprise.

_After pressuring me into killing Bastian, I doubt any demand of theirs could surprise me anymore, short of stepping down as queen. And they know that I would never leave the country to one of them._

"Your Highnesss," a familiar voice sounded to Elincia's right, interrupting her somber thoughts. She turned her head to see Bertram, his armor still bloodied from yesterday's battle, climbing the flight of stairs that led to the palace's main entrance. "I have returned."

"Already?" Elincia stopped to receive her continuously bloodthirsty servant. "Even if you left Flaguerre right after me, you couldn't have taken a pegasus..."

"I rode a horse," Bertram explained. "I rode it all night without pause in order to rejoin Your Highness."

"I appreciate your zeal," Elincia said, "but what about the poor horse?"

"It livesss," Bertram said, but it did not sound encouraging. "I should give you a personal supply of warp powder," Elincia told him. "Assuming you can handle its effects."

"There isss no doubt that I can."

"Splendid. But not now, because I have to meet the nobles," Elincia said, turned her back to Bertram and moved on. However, the sound of his metal boots following her made her stop again about two seconds later. "You can't follow me into the assembly," she said.

"Then I will wait outssside the door."

"If it makes you happy... wait." Elincia had a sudden, and rather creative, idea. "Geoffrey isn't here yet, is he?"

"No. His army is moving ssslowly."

"Geoffrey became Duke of Felirae a short time ago," Elincia explained. "Therefore, he has a right to sit in this assembly, or to send a proxy in case of his absence."

"He did not sssend me," Bertram pointed out.

"No," Elincia said, "but the nobles don't know that. And I'm sure Geoffrey won't mind if I choose a proxy in his stead." She remembered the face under the black helmet, and, fighting off melancholy, forced herself to smile. "You used to sit in this assembly at my father's side, you know."

"I have no memories of that time," Bertram said evasively. "I was born in the torture chamber of King Ashnard, and reborn in the dungeon of Your Highnesss."

"Right," Elincia said, her throat suddenly turned dry. This was Bertram, only Bertram, and not her uncle Renning! How could she have forgotten that? "Either way, you're taking Geoffrey's place today, if only to make the nobles soil their pants."

"I am happy to ssserve."

"Then let's go," Elincia said, and together, she and Bertram walked through the palace corridors to the conference room. "Leave your sword outside the door," she told him. "Weapons are not usually allowed in this room."

"That isss no problem. I enjoy killing with my bare hands."

"I didn't bring you here to kill someone," Elincia hissed. "Just sit there, look scary and vote as I tell you to."

"As you wisssh."

_I hope I won't regret this idea_, Elincia thought as she pushed through the door into the conference room. As she had suspected, the nobles had already assembled, with the ancient Duke Alm sitting at the far end of the table, and predictably enough, most of them stared in terror at Bertram.

"What's the meaning of this?" Alm demanded, his tone more furious than fearful. "Do you mean to threaten us by bringing this... this creature here?"

"General Bertram is here as proxy for Duke Geoffrey of Felirae," Elincia said. "Take a seat, Bertram."

"I think I ssshould stand," the black-clad knight said, and Elincia saw his reasoning: Because of his heavy armor, a delicate chair might collapse under his weight. Slowly walking to her own chair, she noticed that young Count Silok was sitting closest to her, his head lowered in what might be exhaustion... or shame?

"Are you unwell?" Elincia asked him after seating herself, but he did not reply and raised his palms before his head. "What's the meaning of this?" she asked, not at all amused, and seized his hands less-than-gently. "Look at me!"

"I... I can't," the young noble replied with a frail voice that scared Elincia and dispelled her indignation instantly. "Please..."

"What happened to you?" she asked Silok, completely ignoring everybody else in the room, and brought her face close to his head. "You're injured!" she exclaimed when she saw the bruises on his cheeks. "How did this–"

"Please don't look at me," Silok whispered. "I don't deserve to–"

"Ahem." Duke Alm cleared his throat loudly at the far end of the table. "If I might have Your Majesty's attention?"

"Later," Elincia said gruffly. "Silok, tell me what–"

"We know about your blood pacts," Alm announced. "Will that serve to catch your attention?"

"W-What?" Distracted from Silok's state, Elincia looked up and stared in Alm's direction. Had she just heard him right? "What blood pacts?"

"Do not waste our time by feigning ignorance," Alm said. "Your young protégé told us everything."

"My..." Elincia turned to look at Silok, who was burying his face in his palms. "Why did you..." Realization struck her, and she angrily seized both of Silok's hands and forced him to look at her. She gasped when she saw that the bruises were the least of his injuries: His eyes were almost swollen shut, his nose was broken, and several shallow cuts had been made across his throat. Through his half-buttoned shirt, Elincia could see the cuts going down his chest, each of them wider and deeper than the one above it. "Merciful Goddess!" she cried and let go of Silok who promptly hid his face again.

"You tortured him!" Elincia jumped to her feet, almost knocking over her chair. "You heartless fiends!"

"Calm yourself, Queen Elincia," Alm said, his slightly nasal voice still powerful in spite of his age. "Men of our standing do not torture."

"Then you had some of your henchmen do it for you!"

"Very perceptive," Alm chuckled. "But you'll find it hard to prove that."

"I'm sorry," Silok spoke from behind his palms. "They... they made me tell them everything. I tried to fight them, but..." He choked up and began to cry, and the only reason Elincia did not comfort him was because her anger was more powerful than her empathy right now. "How dare you! The consequences of this–"

"You will destroy those documents," Alm interrupted her. "In front of our eyes. This is not a request."

"What? You mean the blood pacts?" Elincia had planted both of her fists against the surface of the table and was staring at the old duke. "Why?"

When no answer came, Elincia looked up and down the marmoreal conference table, eyeing all the dukes and counts and earls she so despised. Most of them smiled at her with smug confidence, with only few exercising restraint, such as Alm himself, whose gaunt face was as expressionless as that of a corpse. When they all refused to say anything, Elincia decided to answer her question herself.

"This is about Daein and Kilvas," she said, voicing her thoughts as they came to her. "You do not want me to have their forces at my command. You want me to be dependent on the troops you send to me from your provinces. You fear that I might use my slaves to remove you from your positions and quell whatever resistance you might offer."

Her words were answered with silence, but that silence was enough for Elincia: The fact that nobody contradicted her spoke volumes.

"Actually, I hadn't even thought of that," she said, forcing herself to sound casual. "But now that you gave me the idea..."

"This is not the time or place for humor, Your Highness," Alm said calmly.

"Indeed." Elincia peered at Silok, who was sobbing silently, and cold rage gripped her, threatening to overcome her. One word from her, and Bertram would tear apart everyone in this room with his bare hands, and enjoy himself greatly while doing so.

"Destroy the blood pacts," Alm repeated his demand. "Immediately."

"Or else?" Elincia snarled. "If you rebel against me, I will have Daein and Kilvas destroy you, so how can you possibly threaten me now?"

"We can burn down this city."

It took Elincia a second to register the full meaning of Alm's words. This city? Melior? Burn it down? He had to be joking!

"This is not an empty threat, Your Highness," Alm elaborated. "We have made careful preparations. Unless a certain signal is given with the palace bell within thirty minutes from now, our... 'henchmen', as you called them, will start massive conflagrations at dozens of locations in Melior. They will also do their best to sabotage as many cisterns and wells as they can, and hinder all efforts to put out the fires." Alm pressed his bony hands against each other and continued after a short pause. "You will not be able to prevent the complete destruction of the capital. And you cannot evacuate more than a small fraction of the populace in time. As the queen, you are the steward of the people... and they will blame you for not stopping the fires." Alm turned his empty palms toward Elincia and raised his eyebrows. "How does that sound for a threat?"

Anger was boiling in Elincia, not only at the mad, egocentric nobles, but also at herself. She had underestimated them again, and even strengthened their resolve with her arrogance! Was she never going to learn how to deal with these people?

_But I will deal with them soon_, she promised herself, _once and for all... But first I have to stop this insane plot!_

A hissing breath to her left reminded Elincia that she had not entered the conference room alone, and it gave her an idea. "I'm pretty sure that Bertram here will make you tell me all about that signal you mentioned in much less than thirty minutes," Elincia smiled. Let them stoop down to torture if they wished – she would not shirk lowering herself to their level.

"That is probably correct," Alm said, unfazed by her threat. "Unfortunately..." He reached into a pocket and produced a yellow-rimmed leaf. "This is a highly poisonous leaf from a tree local to my province of Kantos," he said. "Perfectly safe to touch, but once swallowed, it will kill painlessly in less than ten seconds." He raised the leaf before his mouth to underscore his threat. "I would be dead before your pet monster could touch me, and all of Melior would become my funeral pyre. And before you look at my peers, they do not know the signal to stop my men from taking action. Only I do."

"Are you really willing to go that far?" Elincia growled. "I think you're bluffing. There is no way you can win in this scenario! What prevents me from having you all killed right here and abandoning the city?"

"If you do that, hundreds of thousands of your precious people will die," Alm said. He sounded as if he was speaking about cattle. "And those who survive will hate you for abandoning them."

"Is that all?" Elincia laughed out loud. "I have grown used to being hated. As for my people dying... if their sacrifice will rid me of you and your inhuman ilk, then I shall welcome their deaths." She was not speaking the complete truth, of course: Allowing the destruction of Melior would pain her more than anything else she had done so far. But if she gave up the blood pacts, even more of her people would die in the resulting devastation of the country. The choice was hard, but also quite simple.

Elincia's display of resolve was convincing enough to greatly unnerve the assembled nobles: A tide of nervous coughs rose, and many of them began whispering amongst each other, rightfully fearing for their lives. "Be silent!" Alm admonished his peers, and the voice of their leader calmed them one more time.

"You think we are bluffing, and are making a bluff of your own," the old duke said. "Shall we waste time by waiting for one side to fold? Or shall we talk about this matter like responsible aristocrats?"

"There is nothing to talk about," Elincia replied and sat down in her chair. "Whether you're bluffing or not is of little importance to me."

"We are not asking you to step down or cede a portion of your legitimate authority," Alm said, and Elincia thought there was an inkling of desperation in his voice. "But you need to destroy those documents!"

"I need not do anything," Elincia said, and to her surprise, she found that her calmness was genuine. The nobles could only burn down Melior, but the Senate in its rage and indignation would burn down all of Crimea. Of course she would feel horribly guilty about the hundreds of thousands of dead once the conflagration actually happened, but Elincia had become increasingly resistant, if not immune, to feelings of guilt. She observed this fact with a callousness that would have shocked her younger self, but it was just that: A fact.

"This is your own fault, really," Alm spoke up again. "You've failed to learn from the events around Duke Ludveck and Count Bastian! You have driven us into a corner again, and like cornered beasts, we lash out at you!"

"Is that what you have become?" Elincia asked, wholly devoid of pity for Alm and his ilk. "Beasts?" She gave him an evil, condescending smile. "Humans need not be afraid of beasts. In fact, they kill them."

"It's all your fault!" Alm accused Elincia again, his voice openly nervous now. "You changed everything! All we wanted to do was play the old game by the old rules. But you forced us to play it by yours!"

"So governing a country is a game to you?" Elincia asked. "Your metaphors are truly telling, Duke Alm."

"This isn't about metaphors!" Alm yelled. "This is about the future of the nobility, and we will not let an upstart queen like you destroy it!"

"My, my," Elincia said and leaned back in her chair. "You are getting aggravated."

"Indeed." Merely having that fact pointed out seemed to restore Alm's composure. "How unbecoming of a nobleman." He, too, leaned back in his chair and smiled, playing with the poisonous leaf in his hands. "Perhaps we should just wait for a little while, until the realization of what is about to happen sinks in. We still have about twenty minutes before the inferno begins."

"That is too long for me," Elincia said, determined to find out whether Alm was bluffing or not. "Young people are impatient, you know?" She looked at the black-clad knight standing next to her. "Bertram?"

"Yesss?

"If I told you to kill everybody in this room other than Silok and myself, would you do it?"

"Of courssse. What a sssilly question."

"All right, then." Elincia rose from her chair, walked around the corner of the table to Silok and took his hand. "Stand up," she said, and although he still averted her gaze, the young man obeyed. "We'll lock the door behind us," Elincia told Bertram. "I trust you can break it down later. Don't waste time and leave the city immediately once you're done, just in case they're not bluffing after all." She smiled happily at Alm, who was eyeing the leaf on his palm with rapt interest, and dragged Silok toward the door. "And try not to enjoy yourself too much."

"That will be... difficult," Bertram said and walked toward the noble closest to him. On her way to the door, Elincia could hear the man scream in terror, and if not for Silok's slowness, she would have left the room before his screams were cut off with a wet, crunching noise.

"Stop!" a male voice screamed in panic. "Your Majesty, please, stop him!" Elincia ignored the man and put her hand on the door handle, but then he said something that caught her attention. "I'll tell you the signal!"

"Quit babbling, you fool!" Alm shouted. "You don't know anything!"

"Bertram, hold on for a minute," Elincia commanded and made a step back into the room. It appeared that not all the nobles were as willing to die as their leader. _Will their cowardice and selfishness safe the people of this city? That would be the height of irony._

"I'm not even supposed to know," the man – a middle-aged earl from central Crimea – said nervously, but he evidently feared Bertram's wrath more than Alm's. "I overheard Duke Kantos instructing one of his henchmen, and–"

"I told you to stop talking!" Alm roared and rose from his chair, but he was drowned out by the panicked voices of his fellow aristocrats.

"Let him talk!"

"We don't want to die!"

"Look what that monster did to Count Johan!"

"The bell signal," Elincia reminded the man who had first spoken. "I'm listening."

"It's simple," he said eagerly. "Ring the main bell three times, then five times, then three times again." He pointed at Duke Alm, whose face was red with anger, and who had to be forcefully held back by two of his peers from attacking the faithless earl. "That's what he told his men! I swear I heard it right!"

_So that old fiend wasn't bluffing after all_, Elincia thought, and asked out loud: "Silok, can you run?"

"Y-yes, Your Highness!" The young count let go of Elincia's hand and dashed toward the door. "I'll run to the bell tower and have them ring the signal! You can count on me!" Without waiting for a reply, he ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. _He thinks he failed me by revealing the secret of the blood pacts to his torturers_, Elincia thought sorrowfully, _and wants to atone for his failure. I must tell him later that it was none of his fault._

"I swear I heard it right," the earl who had betrayed the signal repeated, his voice shaky with excitement. "The city will be saved! Please, Your Majesty, have mercy on us! It was all Duke Alm's idea!" His plea was echoed by several of the other nobles, and before Elincia knew it, the entire room had joined the man's chorus.

"Pathetic."

The contempt in Alm's voice was so palpable that all eyes in the room turned toward him, Elincia's included. He had sat down on his chair again and was looking at his peers in open disgust.

"All of you are pathetic. All it takes for you to start begging is one cracked skull? Bah." He shook his bald head theatrically. "The only one with some spine among you was Ludveck, and he lost his nerve and moved too early. But you others? Hopeless. I thought I'd lend you my experience and guide you for as long as I could, to defend the legitimate authority of this assembly... but it seems my efforts were wasted on you." Alm laughed contemptuously. "Begging for mercy may save your lives, but you will no longer have any say in the governing of this country! You will be castrated dogs, licking the feet of a queen, who, as much as I hate her, at least has more backbone than any of you! As for me, the ringleader of this hopeless bunch..." He put the poisonous leaf in his mouth and swallowed. "I am the duke of a noble house going back thirty generations. I will not become a lapdog, and I will not be taken prisoner." A stream of spittle ran out of Alm's mouth, and his body writhed. "Enjoy your reign... while it... lasts," he rasped as he locked gazes with Elincia in his last moments. "You will follow... me... soon..."

_Empty threats from a dying man_, Elincia thought as Alm slumped down in his chair, saliva running down his neck. _Am I supposed to be impressed?_ A few seconds later, Alm's eyes fell shut, and one of his peers shoved his corpse off his chair with a curse before directing a servile glance at Elincia, only to be utterly ignored.

"Can I continue now?" Bertram suddenly asked and moved toward the noble sitting next to the one he had killed earlier, and the man began to shriek like a little girl. "No, they get to live for a while longer," Elincia replied. "How long depends on–"

She was interrupted by the sound of the palace bell ringing three times, then five times, then three times more. Relieved beyond words that the city had been spared from destruction, Elincia allowed herself an audible sigh. Many of the nobles joined in, no doubt hoping that Elincia's relief would mean mercy for them, especially since the mastermind behind their infernal plot was dead. But Elincia was not so quick to forgive them for their willingness to risk the lives of everyone in Melior for their power-hungry schemes, even if they had been too cowardly to see them through to the end.

"You will all sit down now," she said in a stern voice, and noted with amusement how fast her order was obeyed – she did not even have to threaten them with Bertram. Without a spokesperson, they did not even find the courage to say anything, and Elincia found herself almost sharing the late Duke Alm's contempt for his peers.

_Only in the face of death will the true nature of a man be revealed. It's an overused saying, but it's true._

"Did you hear it, Your Highness?" Silok's voice sounded from the door, and he came running back into the conference room. "The bell, I mean. This means that the city is saved, right?" His earlier sadness and depression had been replaced by excitement, and in spite of his terribly injured face, he sounded almost cheerful.

"I would assume as much," Elincia said calmly. "But we'll only know for sure in fifteen minutes or so." She motioned Silok to stand in front of her, but before she could take a closer look at his injuries, one of the nobles suddenly leaped from his chair and threw himself on the floor before the young man.

"In the name of all of my peers, I beg your forgiveness, Count Silok," he said without looking at the man he was beseeching. "The men who did these terrible things to you were in the employ of Duke Alm. We only learned about your mistreatment when it was too late. I implore you, intercede with Queen Elincia on our behalf!"

"Shut up!" Elincia yelled and kicked the begging nobleman in the face. The anger that she had felt upon first seeing Silok's injuries returned to her, and she once again felt the familiar sensation of being overcome with righteous fury. "How dare you beg his forgiveness, you spineless sycophant!" She kicked him again, and the man fled back to the safety of his chair, whimpering in pain. "Each and every one of you knew exactly what was going on!" she yelled at the assembled nobles. "Alm told you from the beginning to compromise you and ensure your cooperation!"

"Yes, he did!" one of the nobles cried fearfully. "That's why we had to go along with it! We had no choice!"

"Don't give me that nonsense!" Elincia yelled. "Of course you had a choice! A choice of standing up to Alm and telling him not to have an innocent man tortured! But you didn't have enough courage or integrity for that."

"You are right," another noble whined. "We are pathetic. Please forgive us..."

"I will most certainly not forgive you." Elincia felt her fists clench and unclench on their own accord, and part of her realized that she was feeling the same way as she had felt before ordering Ludveck's death, and before killing Izuka and Valtome. She wanted nothing more than have Bertram tear these disgusting cowards to pieces, if only to find out whether there was even the slightest shred of decency to be found anywhere in their bodies. She wanted to–

_Stop! Stop! I wanted to stop doing this! Stop acting without thinking, driven by anger, and regretting my actions later! This is no way for a queen to behave... or a human being, for that matter._

"I will most certainly not forgive you," Elincia repeated, forcing her voice into a semblance of calm. "However, it is unseemly for me to lose my self-control because of the likes of you." She took a deep breath and slowly unclenched her fists. "Alm was right when he called you castrated dogs, licking at my feet. You are no longer _deserving_ of my anger."

_Just look at these pitiful creatures! They have only now realized that their wealth and power cannot protect them against the consequences of their actions... that it takes just one of their little schemes backfiring to bring them swift and violent death._

"I... I may be speaking out of line, Your Majesty," Silok said next to Elincia, "but I agree with what you just said. I will not plead for their lives, and you may still execute them at a later time... but it should be done because of the wrongs they did, not because they angered you personally."

"The problem arises when both of those things coincide," Elincia said. "That's when I... ah, never mind." _He saw right through me to the crux of the matter. I guess he's not just book-smart._

"I will not execute you," Elincia decided, her righteous anger cooling rapidly. A collective sigh went through the nobles, contrasted by a disappointed growl coming from Bertram, who had been denied his slaughter. "However, you will lose all your titles and ranks, as well as your wealth and possessions. You will be exiled from Crimea forthwith, and not allowed to carry anything with you other than the clothes you wear. If any of you return to Crimea to incite a rebellion, I will have my slave armies crush you and execute you along with your entire families." Elincia closed her eyes and exhaled, her calm completely restored now. "Show them outside, Bertram."

"With pleasssure," the black-clad knight hissed, and under cries of protest, every last one of the nobles fled the conference room in a mad rush to avoid having to be 'shown outside'. Elincia shook her head in a last display of contempt, and Silok simply started laughing when he saw his malefactors scurry. "You handled that very well, Your Highness," he said. "I mean... that's what I think."

"And don't ever be afraid to tell me what you think," Elincia said earnestly.

"I hear you," Silok replied. For some reason, the experience seemed to have left him less timid than he had been before. Nevertheless, Elincia told him to sit down and let her have a look at the wounds his torturers had inflicted.

"It's all right," Silok said even as he did as his queen had asked. "They wanted to cause pain, not lasting damage. I... I have survived much worse tortures." He lowered his head in a sudden onset of shame. "But even so, I told them everything I knew about the blood pacts."

"The secret would have gotten out sooner or later anyway," Elincia said. "And don't you dare blame yourself for this, because nobody can withstand torture. Nobody."

"Some can, for a time," Silok began, but Elincia cut him off. "It doesn't matter. You bear no blame for anything that happened. And thankfully enough, not much did happen." She shuddered at the thought of Melior turning into a flaming inferno and thanked Ashera that they had been spared at least this calamity. "In fact, thanks to this affair, I finally got rid of Alm and his ilk." She looked at the conference room, and realized that nothing remained now from the noble's assembly other than a lot of empty chairs and two corpses. "Other than you and Geoffrey, Crimea just lost all of its provincial rulers. This is quite an upheaval if you think about it."

_And I am completely free to chose their replacements. Isn't that nice._

"Say, Silok, you're from one of the lesser noble houses, right?" Elincia asked. "Wait... 'lesser' sounds somehow demeaning."

"But it's true," Silok said. "My father was only a marquis. Why do you ask?"

"Well, rather than letting the vengeful sons of the recently deposed nobles succeed their fathers, I think I should draw from the lesser nobility when it comes to appointing new provincial rulers."

"That strikes me as an excellent idea, Your Majesty," Silok said and cringed when Elincia probingly touched his nose. "Ouch... I think it's broken."

"Nothing a healing staff can't fix," Elincia said. "And I'll get you one soon."

"That would be much appreciated." Silok cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling as if something interesting was there, and Elincia noted almost with relief that he had not completely shed his old shyness. "You want to say something," she stated.

"Uh... yes. May I... make a suggestion?"

"Of course."

"Rather than elevating those lesser nobles to the ranks of dukes and counts, you could make them provincial governors instead," Silok suggested. "To be re-appointed every, say, five years, depending on performance, rather than keeping their positions for a lifetime."

"That sounds like a good change," Elincia said. "But then why have a nobility at all, if it no longer serves a function?"

"Indeed," Silok replied. "Why have a nobility at all?"

"Are you talking about uprooting the whole peer system?" Elincia asked, her eyes widening in surprise. "That would be very... radical."

"I'm sorry," Silok said instantly. He was probably blushing, but it was hard to tell with all his bruises. "Please pretend I didn't say anything."

"No, I think the idea has merit," Elincia assured him. "I never thought about it because it was never feasible. Confiscating all the nobles' ill-gotten family fortunes and revoking their titles and privileges could never have been done, because that would have guaranteed a massive rebellion. But now, thanks to the blood pacts, I have the power I need to effect such sweeping changes." She grinned wryly. "Of course, both you and Geoffrey would lose titles and fortune as well."

"I only recently received both, and would part from them without much sorrow," Silok was quick to assure her. "The same is probably true for Duke Geoffrey, who seems to be a knight at heart, not an administrator."

"That is certainly true," Elincia laughed. "I don't think he has even been to Felirae after becoming its duke. He's just far too busy with commanding the knights and the army... especially with all the fighting going on lately."

"I haven't been to Fayre, either," Silok admitted. "Some count I am."

"I guess I'll have to make you do some work as punishment," Elincia grinned. "Make a list of possible candidates for those new governorships, drawing from the lesser nobility and local men of influence."

"Me?" Silok stared at Elincia as if she had just broken his nose again. "But... such responsibility..."

"... is best placed in the hands of those who are trustworthy," Elincia completed. For a moment, she wondered whether she was just rewarding Silok for having been tortured in her service, but that was nonsense: He was intelligent, loyal, and probably knew more influential Crimeans than she, who had grown up in complete isolation. "Or do you decline?"

"N-No, of course not!" Silok bowed deeply before Elincia, groaning in pain as he did. "Stop moving your body," the queen demanded, "you still have many fresh wounds that can open up again. I'll really get you a healing staff now. Just stay here and wait for my return."

"I will, Your Highness. Thank you."

"No, thank you, Silok," Elincia said and made for the door.

"Uh... Queen Elincia?" Silok called after her.

"Yes, what is it?"

"I... well... I will not put myself on that list! I mean... I just wanted to point that out."

"I'm sure you won't," Elincia said and laughed. Silok was probably as close as a person could get to being incorruptible, simply because he would be much too ashamed to ever pursue his personal gain. "But don't worry, I'll find a position for you here in Melior. How about secretary to the queen?"

It was just an idea that had come to her randomly, but Elincia found that it had merit, seeing as she so often found herself overburdened with the myriad details of governing. Silok, on the other hand, was visibly taken aback by her offer. "I know that it would be quite a demotion from your current position as count," Elincia said half-seriously, "but I hope you'll consider it."

"I... I will... will consider it," Silok stuttered simply, and when Elincia looked back one last time before leaving the conference room, she found him staring at the air with his mouth wide open, trying to polish a monocle that was not there.


	33. A Parting of Ways

**Chapter 33: A Parting of Ways**

It had been two days after the death of Duke Alm and the end of the nobility as a political force. So far, there were no indications that any of the exiled nobles' family members were preparing for another rebellion, and the Kilvan patrols on the border to Begnion had reported no Imperial activity, either. For Elincia, it had been two days without life-and-death emergencies, nerve-wracking dilemmas or bloody battles, and she had used the time to get some much-needed relaxation. But even as she rested, others were busy doing her bidding: Silok was working on his list for governor candidates, Geoffrey was investigating the mysterious escape of General Zelgius (without much success, as he reluctantly admitted), and Kieran and Micaiah were holding joint exercises between the armies of Crimea and Daein in the fields outside of Melior.

With so many capable hands working for the welfare of Crimea, Elincia could justify spending the better part of those two days reading old books, taking long walks in the palace gardens and practising her swordfighting. She knew that she would be the first to receive any bad news as soon as it reached the palace, and for the first time in two weeks, she attained something that might be called 'peace of mind'. However, the passing of the days did nothing to diminish her crimes, and the hushed whispers of servants and courtiers that turned into suspicious coughing fits whenever she approached told Elincia that she was quickly gaining notoriety. Ever since the massacre at Flaguerre, her ruthlessness and willingness to spill large amounts of blood had become common knowledge.

_I spent more than three years working toward peaceful solutions to all arguments and conflicts... and that reputation vanished in less than three days. I suppose it can't be helped. And I'd rather be feared for being a strong ruler than admired for being weak._

No matter how many people she had killed or might yet kill, the sun still rose every day in the sky above Elincia, prompting her to do her duty without fail, just as the sun itself never strayed from its course. Whenever thoughts of Lucia or Bastian or the one thousand nameless, faceless Kilvans she had murdered threatened to plunge her into despair, she reminded herself that she had much stronger obligations to the living than to the dead, and that nothing was gained by torturing herself. In the end, this way of thinking worked well enough to keep her in good spirits most of the time, and prevented her from being a drag on the many people who did their best to help her shoulder her burdens.

During the night of the second day, when Elincia was fast asleep in her bed, a familiar voice called her name in her dreams. Her mind immediately conjured up an image of the owner of that voice: a young man, muscle-bound and blue-haired, standing in the middle of her room, illuminated by the pale moonlight shining in through the window. Seeing him made her happy and angry at the same time, and when he called out her name again, she did not want to open her eyes lest his image vanish from her mind.

Only when he called out for her a third time did Elincia realize that her eyes were already open, and that Ike was truly standing before her.

"How... how did you get in here?" She was awake in an instant, leapt out of her bed and seized Ike's arm to make sure that he was not an apparition. It was very much a human arm of flesh and bone, and its owner did not struggle against her grip. "I took the window," Ike said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "You really should lock it at night."

"I should... what?" Elincia let go of Ike's arm and rubbed her eyes, still not entirely convinced that he was not having a dream inside a dream or something strange like that. "We're on the third floor," was the only thing that came to her mind.

"Indeed," Ike said. "Turns out I'm a pretty good climber."

"You... you can't just invade my room like this!" Elincia protested, suddenly aware of her own vulnerability. She was wearing only a simple nightgown and was naturally unarmed, and if Ike had come with the intent of causing harm to her...

"Don't look at me like that," Ike said with a scowl on his face. "I'm not here to hurt you." He crossed his arms before his chest and made a step back, perhaps to appear less threatening. "We have to talk."

"Why should I talk to a dangerous intruder instead of screaming 'Guards! Guards!' at the top of my lungs?" Elincia asked. She was fully awake and aware now, and tried to fathom what Ike's intentions were. He had never lied to her before, but that was no guarantee... or was it?

"As you can see, I am unarmed," Ike said, "and I did not harm any of your men on my way in here. Knowing this, will you at least talk to me before you alert the guards?"

"It's not that easy, Ike," Elincia said, having decided to take the him at his word – after all, if he had wanted to harm her, he could have done so without waking her. "I banished you from Crimea, and I made it an official decree. If anybody were to see you..." She darted to the door and locked it from the inside.

"You would be seen as weak and going back on your judgement," Ike said. "I understand. I'll keep my voice down."

"I haven't agreed to any talks yet!" Elincia hissed, although she knew that her locking the door spoke a different language. "You're taking a huge risk by coming here, you know that?"

"I take risks all the time," Ike said, his unwavering gaze fixed on Elincia as she slowly circled around him. "And I don't believe you'll try to harm me."

"Others have believed the same thing. Not all of them are still alive today."

"Fine." Ike sat down on Elincia's bed without asking for permission. "Call for the guards if you want to. I will not run."

"You..." Elincia clenched her teeth. Was he trying to mock her? Was he belittling her by implying that she did not have the courage to go through with her threat? Was that it?

_No, that's not it_, she realized after looking Ike in the eyes. There was no condescension there, no mockery, just honest concern mixed with hints of uncertainty. Unless she completely misjudged him, his intentions were pure and straightforward, as they had always been. Even after everything that had happened, he still considered himself her friend.

"Very well, Ike," she said and sat down next to him on the bed, taking care not to touch his hand. "Let's talk, then. But let me first ask you the following: Even if you learn the reasons for the things I've done, what will it change? I will do what I do, regardless of whether you know or not. So why do put so much stock in this conversation?"

"Because even if I accomplish nothing here tonight, I still want to know," Ike replied earnestly. "For no other reason than just... knowing."

"Knowing is always better than not knowing," Elincia agreed. She had said those words to someone before, but she did not remember when, or to whom. "And I think you deserve to know." She wet her lips with her tongue, took a deep breath, and banished all nervousness and inhibitions. "It began several months ago, right after the battle at Fort Alpea..."

And so Elincia told Ike everything that had happened beginning with that fateful day. As she spoke to him, she re-lived all the harrowing experiences from Lucia's execution to the massacre at Flaguerre, but not once did she stall during her tale, and she did not omit a single thing. Ike, being the stoic that he was, never showed a reaction other than a raised eyebrow or a hissed breath here and there, and listened to Elincia without asking questions. He had always been a good listener, she had to give him that, thought perhaps that was simply because he was not overly talkative himself.

"There you have it," Elincia said when her tale had caught up with the present. "My life during the past few months. Nothing embellished, nothing glossed over." She had no idea how Ike was going to react, nor how she wanted him to react. Did she want him to tell her that she had done the right thing? Or shake his head in disappointment and leave without another word? No matter what his reaction might be, he was still an exile, and they must not meet again after tonight. Would they part as friends, or enemies, or something other than that?

"I see," Ike said after many silent minutes had passed. His expression was difficult to read in the near darkness, but he seemed more contemplative than agitated. "I can see now... why you didn't want me to know about all these things."

"Yes," Elincia said, her throat suddenly dry. "I didn't want you to think of me as evil. But after the events at Flaguerre... well, you've seen me at my worst, so telling the rest of the story can't have made much of a difference."

"But it did make a difference," Ike said, staring at the bedside carpet as if it was a very interesting sight. "Before I knew the whole story, I thought you had just gone mad... that you could be..."

"Fixed?" Elincia suggested.

"Yes, fixed. But I realize now that it's not that easy. You probably think everything you did was justified, don't you?"

"Absolutely."

"I can't understand that." Ike was still not looking at Elincia, which was very strange for him – he always looked people in the eyes when he was talking to them. "I'm not a saint," he said. "I've killed lots of people in the past, and will continue killing, probably until the day I die. But there are some things you just don't do, no matter what."

"Such as killing the innocent and the helpless," Elincia added dryly. Ike was reacting exactly as she had feared, condemning her outright. _And that's what I wanted, wasn't it? For people to judge me? Not just Geoffrey... Ike, too._

The problem was of course that Elincia could not simply accept such judgement. The only way to stop her was for the judge to become an executioner, and though Ike might be able to kill her with his bare hands before guards answered to her cries, he was apparently unwilling to do that. "I'm sure that you acted with the best of intentions," he said instead. "But the ends don't justify the means. Some things are just plain evil."

"What if the only alternative to those evils is death?"

"Then you make a stand, and if it comes down to it, you die," Ike answered without hesitation. "I'm ready for that. And I thought you were, too."

"Ike!" Elincia seized his left shoulder and forced him to face her. "I didn't do all these things because I was afraid to die! I did them because I am responsible for more lives than just my own." She closed her eyes and sighed. "But you probably can't understand that."

"I understand if perfectly," Ike said with a hint of resentment. "I command an entire company, in case you forgot."

"They are soldiers. They are prepared to die, or at least they should be." Ike was evading Elincia's gaze again, and she decided that it was pointless to make him look at her if he did not want to. "But I rule over a nation of civilians. Farmers and bakers and traders, not to mention the women and children. Should I decide for them that death is not so bad, after all?"

"Of course not," Ike admitted. "But... you could have found better solutions!"

"Name one," Elincia demanded. _Does he think I didn't try everything else?_

"How should I know?" Ike's tone was gruff and defensive. "I'm just a mercenary!"

"Belittling yourself? That's not like you, Ike." Elincia shook her head. "You can't admit that what I did was necessary, can you? Your moral code is just too inflexible."

"That's the point of morals," Ike growled. "If you change them to fit the situation, you can just as well throw them out entirely." He rose from the bed, and for a moment, Elincia thought that he might be leaving. But he only made a couple of steps into the center of her room, where he continued to speak without looking at her. "I thought you were like me! I thought that you were different from the other nobles, that your moral code was too strong to bend under pressure. That's why I did everything in my power to help you gain the crown of Crimea!" He shook his head in disappointment. "But it seems I was wrong."

"No you weren't." Elincia, too, rose from her bed, although she did not make a step toward Ike. "You were perfectly right about me. I was never meant to become queen, so I could afford a moral code every bit as inflexible as yours. But you know what? I changed. That's what all people do."

"Well, I haven't changed much in three years!" Ike claimed.

"That's certainly true." Elincia allowed herself a thin smile. "Perhaps it's because you are afraid of change."

"What?" Ike turned to face Elincia again and glared at her. _"Me, afraid of anything?" That's what you're thinking, right?_

"I understand completely," she said in dead earnest. "And I'm not trying to make fun of you. Change_ is_ frightening, especially if you can't control it... like I couldn't. During the last months, I was often terribly afraid of what I might become... and most of my fears eventually came true."

"Then why didn't you fight it, if you knew what was happening to you?" Ike demanded angrily. "You didn't have to change! Nobody has to!"

"Listen to yourself, Ike." Elincia made a step toward him, but he backed off. "You're definitely afraid of change. Afraid of that powerful invisible force that takes pieces of your self and replaces them without your consent... until you become someone else entirely. Someone who bears little similarity to the person you once were." She found that her own words were depressing even to herself. "That sounds almost like like dying, doesn't it?"

"Are you trying to tell me that the Elincia I knew is dead?" Ike's tone was desperate. "That she died without me even realizing it?"

"No, not entirely. I have still some things in common with the old Elincia... the things I love and the things I hate. I hope she will never vanish completely... but she is mostly just a memory now."

"I refuse to accept that." Ike was almost yelling. "I want the old Elincia back, damn it!"

"But she's gone, Ike. Perhaps she was weaker than you, giving in to change. Or perhaps she was wiser, abandoning a battle that could not be won. Who can say?"

"Don't be so casual about it!" Ike snapped. "We're talking about YOU here!"

"I'm a lost cause," Elincia said, but not without noticing the sorrow in her own voice. "But you, Ike... you can still fight that invisible force. Fight it for my sake, too." She stepped toward him, and this time, he did not back away again. "Never change, Ike," she said and touched his arm. "Never change." _Because for as long as you stay the same, a small part of the old Elincia will live on in you._

"I... I don't intend to," Ike stuttered and permitted Elincia's touch for a second before she withdrew her hand. "But... argh, what's going on here? I wanted to talk some sense into you, and instead you're telling me it's pointless? That you're evil now, and will stay that way?" He rubbed his face with his half-gloved hands as if he had suddenly become very tired. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"I think you should leave," Elincia said gently. "You are already risking your freedom, if not your life, by merely being here. You fought to save my soul, and though the battle was lost before it even began, I will not forget your efforts. Please, go live in Gallia or someplace else and be happy... for me as well."

"Gallia!" The mention of the nation's name seemed to trigger a memory in Ike. "Gallia... yes, that was the other reason I came here!"

"I don't understand," Elincia said. "What about Gallia?"

"There is an important question I must ask you," Ike said. "And I must look you in the eyes as you answer it."

"By all means." Elincia moved closer to Ike so that she could see his clear blue eyes, and he hers. "Your question?" _I have no idea where he's going with this..._

"All right," Ike said and gulped visibly. "Elincia... did you send General Zelgius... No, did you send the Black Knight to assassinate King Caineghis?"

"What?" Elincia stared at Ike as if he had just announced his intentions to bring her evil rule to an end. "Assassinate... Caineghis? You don't mean..."

"The Black Knight killed him," Ike stated flatly, "right before my eyes. And he claimed that you sent him."

"That's ridiculous!" Elincia exclaimed, struggling to absorb Ike's terrible news. King Caineghis had been a friend of Crimea since the time of her father, and she was personally indebted to him as well. First Apostle Sanaki, now the Lion King... were the few rulers in Tellius who were friendly with her all going to get killed?

"I have no idea if you knew this, but the Black Knight turned out to be General Zelgius," Ike said. He waited for a reaction on Elincia's part, but when none came, he probably concluded that she had already known about this. "And you told me yourself that Zelgius was your prisoner."

"But he escaped three days ago," Elincia said. "Just vanished out of his cell, as if he had used warp powder... except we didn't give him any, of course! I was wondering how he had done it, and where he had gone to..." She laughed bitterly. "I guess that answers the second question. So, did he get away?"

"No. He was killed by Giffca and Tibarn."

"Good riddance," Elincia spat, and raised an eyebrow when Ike looked at her in surprise. "Yes, the old Elincia would not have said that," she sighed. "But you must believe me when I tell you that I had no part in this."

"I believe you," Ike said simply, and Elincia knew that he was speaking the truth. But..." He hesitated noticeably. "Do you have any proof?"

"What? Why should I have to prove my innocence?"

"That's what I said." Ike allowed himself a short grin. "Unfortunately, Tibarn and Skrimir think differently. They want to see proof that you were not involved."

"There is no such proof!" Elincia exclaimed. "What a preposterous idea."

"That's what I said," Ike said again, this time in dead earnest. "We have a problem on our hands now."

"Don't tell me..." Elincia knew the answer to her question already, but she asked it anyway. "They will go to war about this?"

"They want to remove you from the throne of Crimea. Unless you abdicate on your own volition, it will mean war."

"No. This... this is too much." Elincia was beset by sudden weakness, and the world seemed to go blurry for a moment. War, again? After they had just fought a huge, bloody battle? War against two nations who had been Crimea's friends and allies until yesterday? This was just too surreal to be true.

_But it is true. Ike would neither joke nor lie about this. It is true._

"I've had enough of war," Elincia whispered, so absorbed in fear and anxiety that Ike would surely have been able to overwhelm her if he had hostile intentions. "I hate war." She was not talking to Ike, but rather to herself. "The outcome of a single battle can spell doom for an entire nation. No matter how well-meaning and hard-working they are, the people on the losing side stand to forfeit everything they have. It's like some sick game played by gamblers, except that the wager is the lives and fortunes of hundreds of thousands."

"Nobody ever said war was a good thing," Ike objected, but Elincia paid him no attention. She realized that the victory at Flaguerre counted for little, that war was a many-headed monster that could not be subdued so easily. And now that monster was trying once again to ravage Crimea, with no regard for the people whose lives it claimed.

Elincia laughed bitterly at her own metaphor. If only war _were _a monster! Monsters had bodies that could be slain, but war had no such weakness. It was an evil ghost, incorporeal and omnipresent, striking wherever and whenever it pleased. The blood and pain of those who fought it only served to feed it, and–

_Stop!_ _Why am I waxing dark poetics in my head? A crisis has arisen, and I must face it. There's nothing more to it than that._

"There is an alternative to war," Ike suggested hesitantly. "You could... you could just abdicate. Stop being queen." In the near darkness, Elincia could not see the pity in his expression, but she heard it in his voice. "I think that would be best for you, too."

"So we're back at the beginning." Elincia laughed again; a sound without the slightest inkling of joy in it. "Just like before Ludveck's rebellion, I can choose between going to war and ceding the crown to someone else." She raised her face and locked on to Ike's gaze. "Do you really expect that after everything I have gone through, everything I have done, that I would make a different choice this time?"

"I do not expect it," Ike said silently and lowered his head. "But I hope it. No, I pray for it."

"Really? In never thought of you as a man who prayed."

"Perhaps this is the first time I'm doing it."

"Stop praying for my soul, Ike," Elincia said sorrowfully. "At least don't do it before I'm dead."

"As you wish." Ike raised his head again and looked through the darkness at Elincia. "So you won't consider abdicating?"

"No." It was an easy answer to give, no matter how dire the consequences might be. Elincia was utterly convinced that she did not cling to the throne for the sake of power or riches – if anything else, she would be better off not being queen, just as Ike had said, and Bastian before him. But who else was there to lead Crimea at a time like this? Who was willing to do what was necessary to protect the country? Geoffrey, the unpolitical soldier? Bertram, the bloodthirsty monster? Silok, the nervous youth?

_The circle of people I can trust has grown rather small_, Elincia realized. _All the more reason to pull my weight and do my duty, no matter what it takes._

"Will it change your mind if I tell you that both Tibarn and Skrimir are dead serious about this?" Ike asked. "That the armies of Gallia and Phoenicis are assembling at the Crimean border even now?"

"It will not change my mind," Elincia replied, "but it will hasten my hand."

"What do you mean?"

"If Tibarn and this Skrimir are already convinced that I am a regicide, then perhaps I should start acting like one," Elincia said, her tone deliberately cold and haughty. "I wonder if Gallia and Phoenicis will still have the spirit to invade Crimea if both of their kings met with an untimely end at the hands of an unknown assassin." It was a mostly empty threat – not even someone of Volke's caliber would be able to assassinate a laguz king in the middle of an army – but it served a purpose.

"What?" Ike stared at Elincia in disbelief. "Stop saying such things! Don't you realize that I'll tell Tibarn and Skrimir everything you said?"

"I do realize that. And perhaps it's just my way to threaten them so they back down."

"We're talking about Tibarn and Skrimir," Ike said, raising his hands. "They will never be cowed by threats. And they shouldn't. "

"So you're on their side now," Elincia said. It was only a snide remark, but it caused a strong reaction in Ike. "This is no joking matter!" he said, emphasizing every word. "Don't you get it? Tibarn and Skrimir asked me to join the war against you!"

"I suppose they did." Elincia tried to sound casual, but her insides were twisted by an onset of fear. "So what will you do?"

"I... I..." Ike lowered his head in despair. "Before I came here, I was sure that I could somehow set you straight... that an ugly war wasn't necessary." His words and posture were enough to turn Elincia's apprehension into certainty. "But now you think the opposite," she said.

"Elincia, you're in the wrong!" Ike was no longer pleading with her; instead, he was pronouncing a judgement. "So you didn't murder Caineghis, but look at all the other things you've done! You sicced an assassin on a friend who was only trying to help you! You killed unarmed prisoners with your own hands! You enslaved entire nations at the threat of total annihilation! You killed a thousand civilians and many thousands of defenseless soldiers! You have become a horrible villain! Like... like..."

"Come on, say it," Elincia dared him, no longer hoping for any sort of reconciliation. "Like Ashnard." She had once feared to become like him, but she knew that she was different from him – similar in many ways, but still different.

"I will not say it," Ike stated simply. "But even so, I cannot allow you to continue with this." His throat produced a strange rasping sound, as if it refused to voice its owner's words, but on the second attempts, the words came out. "I have made my decision. I will fight against you."

"Here? Now?" Elincia raised her fists, finding mockery the only way to deal with Ike's announcement. "By all means, bring it on."

"I'm a mercenary, not an assassin," Ike said, and irritation took the place of regret. "If the two of us should ever fight in person, it will be on the battlefield, with weapons in our hands."

"So in the end it comes down to this," Elincia said bitterly. "The two of us trying to kill each other... that was the one thing I was trying to avoid with all my might." The knowledge that she might have to kill Ike – for she would not allow herself to be killed by him – was almost more horrible than the knowledge that Crimea was about to be embroiled in war again.

"I'm sorry," Ike said and shook his head. "But I made my decision. Unless you abdicate–"

"Which I just told you I won't."

"Unless you abdicate, I will fight you. That is what I've resolved to do."

Elincia knew that Ike would never say something like that until he truly meant it. She was just about to tell him that she had nothing else to say to him when she suddenly recalled a memory from three years ago. That memory gave her hope that, if another war could not be avoided, then at least she might not be forced to cause the death of Ike. "Your resolve may not last forever," she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When you went to fight the Black Knight in Nados Castle," Elincia recounted her memory, "Soren wanted to follow you and fight with you, but Titania stopped him."

"That's not surprising," Ike said. "I've learned recently just how far Soren will go if he thinks I'm in danger." His gaze drifted off for a second, as if he was recalling a memory of his own, but his attention quickly returned to Elincia. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"I don't remember her exact words anymore... but Titania said that you would not throw away your life. She was convinced that you don't fight battles you cannot win... that you know when to quit."

"That sounds like her," Ike agreed. "But I still don't see what this has to do with our situation."

"Really? I thought it should be obvious by now. On the day that you lead your men into battle against me, I will pray that Titania was right. Because..." Elincia moved closer to Ike, until her face was within a few inches of his "You cannot win against me, Ike. It is impossible. And do you know why?" She did not wait for an answer. "You said it yourself earlier. There are some things you won't do in order to win. Things you won't even consider, no matter how dire the situation is. However, I do not have that weakness... not anymore."

"It's not a weakness!" Ike exclaimed, but Elincia ignored him and continued. "Because of that weakness, you cannot possibly defeat me. Do you understand what I'm saying, Ike? I told you before, at Flaguerre, and I will tell you one more time: If you cross me, you will die. I will hate myself for it, but I will kill you, or have you killed; it makes no difference. To be honest, I don't even know yet how I'll do it. But I _will_ do it."

"I'm not afraid of you," Ike said, but he sounded uncertain. Elincia rejoiced, for in this uncertainty lay the only way to save his life.

"I've defeated more powerful enemies than you, both in single combat and in the field!" Ike exclaimed.

"Are you thinking of the Black Knight, who spared your life not once, but twice, because he did not think you were ready? He was defeated by his own twisted sense of honor. Are you thinking of Ashnard, who deliberately split his armies and sent his men to die so he could face you in single combat? He was defeated by his own madness." Elincia had no wish to denigrate Ike's accomplishments on behalf of Crimea, but she had to sow the seeds of doubt in his mind if she wished to save him.

"I will be a different kind of enemy," she continued mercilessly, while Ike could do nothing but stare at her with growing disquiet. "I have no sense of honor anymore, and I am assuredly not mad. I don't expect you to fully grasp this here and now, but when you take up arms against me alongside the laguz, you will remember my words from tonight and you will realize that you are facing certain death. And if Titania was right, you will run away and save yourself." Elincia made a meaningful pause and exhaled deeply. "That's all I can hope for."

Rather than replying to her, Ike looked at Elincia with a terrifying intensity that almost made her shiver, and his eyes were boring into her head as if he was trying to peer into her mind. But she did not shirk his gaze, nor did she give in to the temptation of saying something friendly or placating to him.

After what seemed like hours, Ike was the one who averted his gaze. He wordlessly walked to the window, opened it and climbed onto the sill. Elincia's followed him with her eyes and hoped that he would simply leave without saying anything, leave and disappear from her life forever. But Ike was not so kind, for before he started his perilous climb down, he turned his head and faced her one more time.

"Titania has been wrong before," he said and was gone.

Innocuous though his parting words sounded, they made Elincia want to collapse on her bed and cry herself to sleep. In the end, it was only the knowledge that she had to prepare Crimea for another bloody war that stopped her.


	34. The Final Messenger

**Chapter 34: The Final Messenger**

When Elincia entered the conference room in the Royal Palace together with Geoffrey, the other participants of the strategy meeting were already awaiting her arrival. The large room, which had not been used since the last (and final) meeting of the assembly of nobles, seemed rather empty with only Bertram, Naesala and Micaiah sitting at the table, but Elincia had decided to keep the number of participants small: She wanted to keep the truth about the new war secret for as long as possible to prevent a panic among the populace, and the best way to that was to not let many people know.

"We are all here," Elincia said in lieu of a greeting, since she doubted any of those present would have appreciated it. She sat down in her large chair at the head end of the table, motioned Geoffrey to take a seat close to her, and overlooked the room. The corpses of Duke Alm and Count Johan had been removed, although there was still a blood stain on the table top where Bertram had smashed the nobleman's skull against the marble. Out of whim or perhaps because he enjoyed the proximity of human blood, the black-clad knight had taken his seat on that very spot, with Naesala sitting right next to him, as if he wanted to tell Elincia that he was not afraid of her enforcer. Micaiah was sitting opposite to the Raven King, looking lonely and out of place even when Geoffrey sat down right next to her.

_Other than Bertram, everybody here is in a dreadful mood, though not all for the same reason_, Elincia thought. _And I doubt that this will change during our meeting. _

"We are here," Elincia repeated, "but I still have to tell you why we are here."

"To bask in the presence of our glorious mistress," Naesala said. "Need there be another reason?"

"Save your sarcasm for another day, King Kilvas," Elincia growled. "We're facing a grave crisis, and I don't want to lose my temper. More importantly, _you _don't want me to lose my temper."

"Consider me suitably intimidated," Naesala snarled and shut up as commanded. That was the nice thing about his incessant scoffing: That Elincia could shut it up at the drop of a hat.

"For reasons that aren't pertinent right now," she began her explanation, "we have found ourselves at war with Gallia and Phoenicis. Their combined armies have crossed the border yesterday and are headed straight for Melior. To make things worse, they are reinforced by the Greil Mercenaries..." She hesitated before delivering the news that she had received only an hour ago, and that had made her scream in frustration. "...and the remainder of Begnion's Central Army."

"How is that possible?" Micaiah asked. "They retreated toward Mugill! How can they have made it to Gallia without our knowing?"

"There is a hidden path leading through the mountains between Serenes Forest and Gallia," Naesala said in a bored voice. "Looks like the Empire found it."

"But they were at war with the laguz alliance until a short time ago!" Micaiah protested. "Why are they on the same side now?"

"They may not be fighting willingly," Naesala said. "Like, you know, you and me. Or perhaps their hatred for Queen Elincia simply eclipsed their hatred for each other. She seems to be pushing away people recently... Even her dear General Ike joined the enemy."

"Watch your tongue, Naesala," Geoffrey growled. "You have been warned once already."

"I simply said the truth, lapdog," the Raven King said with a scornful expression. "I'm sorry if it is painful."

"Leave it be, Geoffrey," Elincia said. "I'll admonish him myself when the need arises." _He still wants to protect me from all harm, even something as insignificant as Naesala's stings. I guess he, too, will never change._

"It still doesn't make sense," Micaiah resumed her argument from earlier. "Gallia has been allied to Crimea for decades. Why are they going to war against them now?"

"Why do you care so much?" Naesala asked her. "No matter their reasons, we'll have to fight them. Don't make it sound as if you're emotionally invested in the welfare of our mistress, or I'm going to be sick."

"Well, excuse me for caring about the reasons for this invasion," Micaiah retorted angrily. "I just thought that if we can understand their motives, we may be able to avoid this war. I don't know about you, but I don't want to lose any more of my soldiers than necessary."

"I'm afraid that their motive is rather straightforward," Elincia sighed. "They believe that I've had King Caineghis assassinated."

"Woah, wait, you did what?" Naesala stared at Elincia, and for a moment, surprise replacing the usual contempt in his expression. "Not that I care about that idealistic fool, or anything," he added after regaining his disdainful composure. "But it seems that your murderous ways have backfired on you this time."

"She did not do it!" Geoffrey roared and rose from his chair; indeed, for a moment it looked as if he was going to jump on the table and physically attack the Raven King. "My queen has no need to hide her actions, be they cruel or fair!"

"Please sit down, Geoffrey," Elincia said calmly, "and let him think whatever he wants. After all, that is the only freedom he has left."

"Succinctly stated, your regicidal highness," Naesala said. "And since I do not wish to invite the same fate as my fellow laguz king, I'll be 'watching my tongue' from now on."

_It's probably best if he believes that I am behind Caineghis' death. It'll make him think that I have no compunctions with killing him if the need arises... as indeed I don't._

"For those who care," Elincia said in the direction of Micaiah, "I had nothing to do with King Caineghis' death. In fact, I grieve for him, and not only because he would never have invaded Crimea on such spurious grounds as the words of an assassin."

"Who was that assassin?" Micaiah asked.

"General Zelgius of Begnion," Elincia replied while watching Micaiah carefully. Judging from her lack of reaction, it appeared that she did not know that Zelgius had fought on her side several times, and for the sake of avoiding a lot of unnecessary drama, she did not divulge that fact. "I assume he did it on behalf of the Senate, to bring the laguz to their side. The sudden appearance of the Central Army alongside Gallia and Phoenicis supports that theory."

"I see," Micaiah nodded. "That makes sense."

"So naive," Naesala commented under his breath, but Elincia ignored him. "Geoffrey," she addressed her general, "would you tell us about the military details now?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Geoffrey cleared his throat and began. "As Queen Elincia has said, the enemy armies have crossed the border yesterday. According to the estimates of our scouts, they outnumber our cominbed forces approximately by a third. Seeing as they want to depose Queen Elincia, they are marching straight toward Melior, and unless action is taken to stop or slow them, they will reach the city in two days. Therefore, our first decision must be whether we will await them here or march out to intercept them."

"Are there any fortifications on the route they're likely to take?" Micaiah asked. "Even a small garrison in a strategic location would be enough to at laest slow down the enemy advance by forcing them to go around it."

"No forts or castles," Geoffrey said. "There used to be a keep close to the border, but King Ramon had it torn down as a gesture of trust to Gallia."

"Which speaks volumes about the value of trust," Naesala sneered. "Sorry," he said when both Elincia and Geoffrey glared at him. "Consider it my attempt at helpful advice."

"What about the terrain?" Micaiah asked. "Any place where you could set up a barricade, or an ambush?"

"The area between the Gallian border and this city is mostly farmland," Geoffrey replied, "and not at all suitable for any kind of delaying actions." In response, Micaiah nodded and furrowed her brows, presumably trying to come up with another idea. Elincia was glad that she was so enthusiastic about Crimea's defense, even if she was only trying to gain favor with her. Naesala, on the other hand, seemed somewhere between amused and disgusted, and probably would have mocked Micaiah for her efforts had he not promised to keep quiet.

"Unfortunately for us, Melior has no city walls," Geoffrey said, "and is therefore almost impossible to defend."

"And even if it could be defended, the population would suffer greatly in the resulting siege," Elincia added. "If at all possible, we must find a way to keep the civilians out of harm's way." She peered at Naesala, but the Raven King said nothing; he had to be exercising great self-control not to make a bitter remark about her disregard for _Kilvan _civilians. _And I would have deserved that remark a thousand times over... but now is not the time for repentance._

"I remember from a map that there's a large fort not too far from the capital," Micaiah said. "If the enemy's target is Queen Elincia, we could declare Melior a free city and move our armies there."

"That would be Fort Alpea," Elincia said, pre-empting Geoffrey who had been about to say the same thing. "It is easy to defend, but... I don't think it's a good idea to go and hide within its walls." She noticed that Geoffrey gave her a concerned look, and realized that he was probably getting the wrong idea. "I'm not saying this because there are painful memories waiting for both of us there," she told him. "If we abandon the capital, the enemy can just surround the fort and starve us out while installing a new ruler in Melior. Sooner or later, our food would run out, and we would have to fight a pitched battle. And if it comes to that, I would fight that battle sooner rather than later, and on our own terms."

"You mean we should face them head-on in the fields outside the city," Geoffrey said. "Is that right?"

"That's too dangerous," Micaiah said before Elincia could reply. "The enemy outnumbers us, remember?"

"Yes, I remember," Elincia said coolly, "but their numerical superiority is mitigated by the fact that the laguz alliance is fighting alongside Begnion. Both sides were at war until very recently. We can hope that there are frictions and animosities between both sides, and they don't work together very well."

"That's a fair assumption," Micaiah said, "but will those frictions be enough to offset their numerical advantage?" She put her left index finger against her chin and spent several moments in contemplation, which Elincia might have found adorable under more agreeable circumstances. "How about hiding your Gallian contingent somewhere near the capital and having them attack the Imperial Army from behind? That might make them think that they've been betrayed."

"That's a promising idea," Elincia said, "but Mordecai and his soldiers will not be with us in the coming battle. I talked to him earlier and he said that his men won't fight their fellow Gallians. They will stay neutral in this conflict."

"Such luxury," Naesala sneered. "To pick and chose his battles!"

"I respect Mordecai's decision," Elincia said – not that she had much of an alternative. "I'm sorry," she said to Micaiah. "It seems that all your ideas are getting shot down."

"No offense, but that's the last thing I'm worried about," Micaiah replied. "What _is_ worrying me that you'll probably put Daein's troops on the front lines again."

_So that's why she was trying to come up with another plan... to preserve her own forces, not mine. How foolish of me to think otherwise..._

Before the thread of the conversation could be resumed, somebody knocked on the door of the conference room. "Come in," Elincia said, and a member of the palace guard entered. "An envoy from Gallia requests an audience with Your Highness," the man said. "I brought him with me, so..."

"By all means, send him in," Elincia replied. She was surprised that the laguz alliance would send a messenger even after Ike's failed attempts at reconciliation, and had little hope that anything would come out of this meeting, but she had to at least listen to the envoy in good faith.

"Her majesty will admit you now," the guard said to someone standing behind him, and a second later, the envoy entered the room. Elincia knew him well from the war three years ago: It was Ranulf, one of the late King Caineghis' most trusted men and a close friend of Ike's. He had not aged a day since Elincia had last seen him, and his light blue hair and slender, feline face made him appear even younger than he actually was.

"Queen Elincia," he said politely and approached her, stopping at a distance of ten feet. He cast a short glance at the people sitting at the conference chair, and scowled deeply when he saw Naesala, who responded with an overly cheerful smile. Ranulf's scowl vanished when he turned his attention back to Elincia, but he was not looking friendly, either: His features were earnest and composed, and he gave no indications of his own feelings toward Elincia or his mission.

"I speak for both Gallia and Phoenicis, as well as our allies from Begnion," Ranulf began without wasting time on greetings or formalities. "I take it that Ike already talked to you at length, but King Skrimir and King Tibarn agreed to send an official envoy before hostilities break out."

"I appreciate that," Elincia said, "and hope that you came with the authority to negotiate."

"I'm afraid I have no such authority," Ranulf replied with a shrug. "I am here to officially present our demands, as well as the alternative."

"In that case, you wasted your time coming here." Elincia made a dismissive hand gesture. She already knew what Ranulf's demands would be, and she had no intention of giving in to them. "The guard will safely escort you off the palace grounds."

"Hey, at least let me say what I came here for!" Ranulf complained. "You weren't always that gruff, you know."

"People change," Elincia said curtly.

"All right, I'll just say it now before that scary fellow in black armor who is already looking at me like he wants to tear my tail off can throw me out," Ranulf said quickly. "We want you to abdicate as Queen of Crimea, and any candidate for the succession must be approved by Tibarn, Skrimir and a representative of the new Begnion government."

"New government?" Now there was something Elincia did not know yet. "What does that mean?"

"Ah, you see, two days after _somebody_ murdered King Caineghis, a large bunch of Imperial soldiers suddenly showed up in Gallia," Ranulf explained, seemingly happy that he was not being thrown out on the spot. "Their general claims to be acting on behalf of Prime Minister Sephiran, who is engaged in an open revolt against the Senate, trying to restore the Apostle to her rightful position." Ranulf shrugged again. "To be honest, we have no idea whether he's speaking the truth, or whether Sephiran is even still alive, but it was decided to admit the Empire into our alliance... with all due caution, of course."

"The Imperial general lied to you," Elincia said. "According to my intelligence, Apostle Sanaki is dead, and Prime Minister Sephiran is a very intelligent man who would not continue the Senate's foolish war against Crimea. I don't know what that general is plotting, but he can't be a reliable ally. In the interest of your own safety, I advise you to send him and his forces home."

"In the interest of our own safety. Right." Ranulf shook his head. "Also, Empress Sanaki being dead is news to me," he said, and his tone suggested that he was not willing to believe Elincia's claim without proof. "Let's just say that Tibarn and Skrimir chose to trust General Levail over you."

"You people were at war with the Empire until less than two months ago!" Elincia exclaimed. "Why this sudden change of heart? Do Tibarn and Skrimir hate me that much?"

"We had a bone to pick with the Senate for instigating the Serenes Massacre, not with the Empire as a whole," Ranulf reminded her. "And since General Levail and Prime Minister Sephiran are fighting the Senate... well, it makes them our natural allies, doesn't it?"

"I'm telling you again that this Levail is lying," Elincia said. It had to be true – neither Sephiran nor Sanaki (if she was truly still alive, which Elincia doubted) had any reason to go to war with Crimea. "His army is probably the same that we defeated at Flaguerre, so he must be out to avenge his fallen comrades."

"We considered that theory, too," Ranulf said. "But even if it's true, his hatred would make him a reliable ally... to a certain degree, at least." He raised his palms as if to deflect any additional attempt to denigrate his new allies. "Anyway, change of subject. We're not talking about the Empire, we're talking about you. Will you at least consider stepping down? It would save many lives on both sides."

"What kind of argument is that?" Elincia asked gruffly. "Why don't _you_ consider withdrawing? That would save just as many lives!"

"Because Tibarn and Skrimir consider the assassination of King Caineghis a declaration of war," Ranulf said.

"I had nothing to do with that!" Elincia found herself becoming angry – if people wanted to condemn her, they should at least condemn her for the sins she had actually committed! "Zelgius was an Imperial general. It is obvious that he was working together with this Levail, to goad Gallia and Phoenicis into joining the Empire. Why else would the remainder of the Central Army suddenly appear in Gallia with such perfect timing?"

"Maybe Zelgius informed his old comrades before going on his mission. Who can say?" Ranulf shrugged again, a gesture that infuriated Elincia. "But the fact remains that General Zelgius was your prisoner before he magically popped up in Gallia and killed our king. Sorry, but the connection is pretty obvious."

"But I didn't send him!" Elincia yelled. "He vanished from his cell without a trace!" All signs pointed to Zelgius having received some warp powder from an unknown party, but investigations had turned up nothing – it could not have come from the supply he had used to infiltrate the palace, for only Elincia and two highly reliable members of the guard knew how to open the vault that contained it. It was a mystery that she had been unable to solve, which was all the more frustrating since solving it might also have prevented the coming war.

"I know of a way he could have done it," Micaiah volunteered in yet another attempt to be helpful. "There is a substance called warp powder... although the only one I've known to use it was–"

"I already know about the powder," Elincia cut her off. By sheer coincidence, Ranulf had not referred to Zelgius as the Black Knight, and she did not want Micaiah to find out about his true identity right now, since that knowledge would only confuse her and lead to complications. "But thank you for telling me."

"You're welcome," Micaiah said hesitantly.

"Look, it doesn't matter how Zelgius did it," Ranulf said, "because it still doesn't add up. If he could have escaped at any time, then why wait for weeks in his cell until he was told – or forced – to kill King Caineghis?" He fiercely shook his head, involuntarily wiggling his cat ears. "Also, Ike told us that you threatened the assassination of Tibarn and Skrimir. That doesn't exactly make you look good, you know."

"It was a slip of the tongue."

"You're just being cynical now," Ranulf sighed. "Just like Ike said."

"So you talked to him," Elincia said. "And I thought he had believed me..."

"Oh, he most certainly does believe you. In regards to King Caineghis, I mean."

"Then why don't you believe him?" Elincia demanded. "I thought he was your friend."

"Sorry, but my personal feelings don't really matter here," Ranulf replied with yet another shrug. "I'm a Gallian soldier doing my duty. And besides, even though Ike believes in your innocence, he's still on our side, for a number of reasons."

"So he's really planning to participate in the fighting..." The presence of the Greil Mercenaries and their leader among the invaders was an even greater source of worry for Elincia than that of the Imperial troops. Her pleas and threats and warnings uttered during that nightly visit had all amounted to nothing, and although she was trying very hard not to think about it, she could not deny the reality: Ike was her enemy now.

"He won't just participate," Ranulf corrected her. "Since we have both beorc and laguz armies fighting alongside each other, Tibarn, Skrimir and Levail agreed to make Ike the supreme commander of their combined forces."

"A wise choice," Elincia said hoarsely, even though she had no idea why she was commending the enemy. It was true that the laguz respected Ike greatly, not least of all for his assistance in the recent war, and the remainder of the Central Army literally owed him their lives. He was the only one who could hope to command such a diverse force without massive frictions... another reason why he was Elincia's worst possible enemy.

_There are still two days until he reaches Melior. Until then, I must prepare myself for fighting him. I know that I can do it... but it will still be the hardest thing I've ever done._

"Might the fact that Ike is on our side convince you to reconsider our demands?" Ranulf asked cautiously. "I mean... he's Ike, you know."

"He's not invincible," Micaiah piped in. "He's just a man, and he can be defeated." She was speaking from personal experience, and her boasts served to encourage Elincia. "It is as she said," she told Ranulf. "Do not think you have already won just because you have Ike and his men on your side."

"Don't worry, we won't fall prey to overconfidence," Ranulf smiled. "We are prepared for a difficult fight."

"If you are as resolved as I, then there is nothing more for us to talk about," Elincia said. "Like I told you in the beginning... you were just wasting your time."

"I was hoping for the opposite. That's why I volunteered." Ranulf shrugged, hopefully for the last time. "But it seems that my optimism was unwarranted."

"Optimism is rarely warranted these days, for anybody." Elincia made no attempt to hide her bitterness. "Anyway, you must leave now. As you can see, we are strategizing about how to best defeat you."

"I wouldn't dream of keeping you from doing that," Ranulf said. "But before I go, may I deliver two personal messages?"

"If you keep them short."

"I will." Ranulf nodded. "The first message is for Mordecai..." He raised his head and theatrically overlooked the room. "Who doesn't seem to be here right now. Maybe he doesn't want to fight his fellow Gallians? That would be a relief."

"Your messages," Elincia growled. "Do not try my patience."

"My apologies," Ranulf said. "Can I trust you to deliver the message to him?" he asked Elincia.

"You can."

"All right. Then please tell him from Lethe that he's a huge idiot and that he should return to the king's side immediately, before it is too late." Ranulf frowned, as if he only now realized that conveying this message might cost Elincia an ally. "Are you sure you'll tell him? You can just say no if you don't want to."

"I will tell him," Elincia said. She trusted that Lethe's message would not deter Mordecai from his promised neutrality. "Now the other message."

"Right away." Ranulf looked at Naesala. "It's for you, Raven King, from Tibarn."

"Me?" Naesala raised both eyebrows in exaggerated, but genuine surprise. "What does the mighty Hawk King have to say to a traitor like me?"

"He said that judging from what Ike told us about the blood pacts, you were acting under duress when you betrayed Phoenicis to the Empire."

"So what?" Naesala asked. "I still betrayed them. I still had a hand in wiping out half his country." He sounded almost proud of it, but Elincia knew that it was merely pretense – he was unwilling to make excuses for his actions, even if he had every right to do so. It reminded her of herself, and for a moment, it made her feel sympathetic for the Raven King.

"That is true," Ranulf told Naesala. "And Tibarn said that he'll still tear you apart with great pleasure if he gets the chance. But he also said that he'll feel slightly bad about it."

"Slightly... bad..." Naesala shook his head in amazement. "Some consolation."

"Well, that's everything," Ranulf told Elincia. "I'm leaving now." Elincia nodded, and wordlessly watched the young Gallian walk out of the conference room. There was no need for friendly farewells, for the next time they met each other, they would be enemies on the field of battle. Shaking her head in disgust at the capriciousness of fate, Elincia returned to her seat at the table and faced her servants. "As you can see, our enemies are not going to back down," she said calmly, "so let's continue where we left off."

Elincia was still sick with worry about the future of her country, the outcome of the coming battle and the fate or a certain young mercenary commander, but the failed negotiations had also strengthened her resolve. If war was coming again, then she would face it again... and if there was anything she could do about it, it would be the last time.

* * *

_AN: As I'm leading up to the climatic clash between Elincia and Ike, I find myself wondering who readers are "rooting for", if you will. Is it Ike, because he's the hero with the moral high ground, or Elincia, who is the protagonist of the story and hopefully still someone you can relate to.__ Who do you think should / will win? Or are you still hoping for some sort of reconciliation, perhaps in the face of a newly emerging threat?_

_ Just to make it clear: This is not a poll about how I should write the ending (it has been set in stone almost since the beginning), it's just me being curious and throwing the question out there.  
_


	35. Dawn of Fate

_AN: First of all, thanks to everyone who replied to my question from last time. Apparently opinions on "who should win" are split, with more than a little ambivalence thrown in, and that is just fine. To find out how it all goes down, please read on._

* * *

**Chapter 35: Dawn of Fate**

Perhaps an hour before sunrise, Elincia was standing at the edge of the Crimean army camp and looking into the darkness. She had awoken from her unsteady sleep half an hour ago and decided to stay awake until the rays of the sun heralded the beginning of the new day, and with it the bloodiest battle in the history of Tellius. She was fully girded in her white armor, with boots, gloves and all, and wore her sword Amiti in a scabbard attached to her belt. Tomorrow morning, the fate of her kingdom would once again hang in the balance, and she could not afford to throw anything less than the full weight of her power on the scale, and that included going into battle herself.

The combined enemy armies, led by none other than Ike himself, had arrived near Melior right on schedule, two days after Ranulf's departure, but must have thought it too late in the evening to begin the battle. They had set up camp a few miles away from the city, at the far end of a large, green meadow that would surely become tomorrow's battlefield. The armies of Crimea and her allies were encamped near the outskirts of Melior, at the other end of said meadow, and Elincia could see the faint lights of the enemy sentinels on the horizon. It was a surreal feeling, knowing that many of her old comrades were sleeping around these lights, comrades who would do their best to kill her and her soldiers once the sun had risen.

Even now, Elincia had the power to prevent the battle, but for the thousandth time, she told herself that she could not abdicate. In these terrible times of wars and blood pacts and mass murder, when Crimea was undergoing its largest domestic change in centuries with the dismantling of the nobility, a less determined and ruthless ruler than her might not be able to ensure the continued survival of her nation.

_If I had wanted to abdicate, I should have done it all the way back when Ludveck demanded it. But if I gave up now, everything that happened since then, beginning with Lucia's death, would have been for nothing._

And so it was that Elincia continued to gaze into the darkness of the night. All preparations had been made: A strategy with several contingency plans had been drawn up, the officers and soldiers instructed, and healers prepared to receive the inevitable stream of wounded. Over the last two days, the armies of Crimea, Daein and Kilvas had held joint exercises and were slowly getting used to fighting alongside each other, although Elincia doubted that the black-clad and the black-winged soldiers would ever overcome their resentment for being forced to fight a war that was not theirs. But she trusted that both Micaiah and Naesala had instructed their men that any hostile actions against Crimea would result in the deaths of their nations. Self-preservation would do the rest.

While she was lost in thought, the soft sound of hooves moving in the grass somewhere to her right reached Elincia's ears. Seeing as the soldiers were only supposed to rise at dawn (unless the lookouts alerted them in case of an enemy attack), she wondered who it might be and decided to investigate. At the edge of the camp, the lights of the large fires near the centers did not reach, and the closest torch-bearing sentinel was too far away to provide much lighting, so it was almost pitch dark when Elincia silently moved toward the source of the noise.

"Are you really sure about this?" a hushed, female voice whispered. "Aren't you just looking for another excuse to avoid fighting?"

"Not this time," a male voice replied. "This is not a joke, or an excuse. I'm leaving, and I'm not coming back." The owner of the voice sighed. "I'm a terrible brother to abandon you like this, but since you're dead-set on staying..."

"Did I hear that right? You admit that you're a terrible brother? I never thought I'd hear that from you."

_I know these voices_, Elincia thought as she peeked around the corner of a tent. She saw two human-shaped figures, one of them riding on a horse, the other walking next to that horse. Both were wearing riding armor and had pink hair – brother and sister indeed.

_Trying to sneak out of the camp at the eve of battle? What's going on here?_

"Hello, Marcia," Elincia said out loud as she stepped around the corner of the tent and showed herself. "Hello, Makalov." She walked toward the siblings who had frozen on the spot at the sound of her voice. "What are you doing up so early?"

"This is bad," Makalov said and seized the reins of his horse. "I'm boing to bolt."

"You'll do no such thing," Elincia said calmly and drew her sword with one swift movement, planting herself in Makalov's path.

"Queen Elincia!" Marcia exclaimed. "You mustn't hurt him! He's not doing anything bad, he's just–"

"Shirking his duty again," Elincia said coldly. "I've heard every word."

"But you heard wrong!" Marcia put herself between Elincia and her brother, who was playing nervously with the reins of his horse. "He's not trying to chicken out! He just... he just wants to quit!"

"Quit. Right." Elincia snorted. "And after the battle, he'll re-appear to collect his pay, only to waste it in some gambling den." She and everybody else in this camp were going to risk their lives soon, while this slacker was trying to profit from their blood and sweat – she was not going to stand for this.

"But I'm just doing what you told me!" Makalov whined. "Don't you remember? You said that not everybody is cut out to be a knight."

"Did I say that?" Elincia tried to remember her last encounter with Makalov, in the palace gardens right after abducting Leanne. "Yes, I suppose I did," she admitted. "But you should be handing in a formal resignation, not going away without leave in the middle of the night! What kind of example do you think you're setting? If all soldiers could just leave before a battle, then..."

"Then there wouldn't be any battles!" Makalov said in a triumphant voice.

"Be more respectful, you idiot," Marcia growled. "Don't you realize what's on the line here?"

"Don't worry, I won't punish him overly harshly," Elincia said and sheathed her sword. "In fact, I'll even accept his resignation and send him off with my best wishes... after tomorrow's battle."

"But I don't want to!" Makalov protested. "If I stay and fight in that battle, I'll just... I'll just..." He did not complete his sentence, preferring to stare into the darkness.

"You could be injured or even die," Elincia said in his stead. "That is true for all of us, including myself."

"That's not his real reason!" Marcia said. "Tell her!" she commanded her brother.

"What are you talking about? I just want to quit, that's all!"

"You're really too dumb to live," Marcia sighed and turned to Elincia. "Your Majesty, please listen to me. Makalov was always a lost cause, but he still showed a little effort from time to time, if only to ensure that he wouldn't be kicked out of the Royal Knights and lose his pay." She took a deep breath before continuing, ignoring her brothers muttered pleas to stop talking. "He only got the idea of running away after the battle of Flaguerre."

"Marcia, please don't tell her about–"

"Shut up already, you brainless beanstalk," Marcia hissed. "I don't care if your manliness is being questioned. If you want to get out of here, you have to admit the truth!"

"What is this all about, Marcia?" Elincia asked, idly wondering why their loud conversation had not waked anybody yet. "What did he do after Flaguerre?"

"Oh, he didn't do or say anything at first. But on the night after the battle, he drank himself almost unconscious and cried like a little girl."

"I wasn't crying," Makalov defended himself, "I was just drunk and–"

"Please ignore him," Marcia told Elincia. "Do you know why he was crying?"

"It's... not hard to guess," Elincia replied hesitantly. "The massacre?"

"Everybody thought it was horrible. Me too." Marcia fiercely shook her head, as if she was trying to chase away an unpleasant memory. "But war isn't nice, and sometimes, things like this are necessary. I get it, and I'm not criticising you... but not everybody is the same."

Elincia was reminded of Nephenee and the other soldiers who had lost their minds because of the horrors they had committed. Until now, she had thought that they had been the only ones to be affected... but apparently, there was a middle ground between utterly breaking down and being completely unaffected. _I wonder how many more soldiers are feeling like Makalov, but are too scared to admit it? How many only realized later what they had done, and hated themselves for it?_

"It's true," Makalov suddenly said. His voice was hoarse like after a drunken night. "That's why I want to get out. I can't do something like this again." He looked Elincia straight in the eyes for the first time. "If we win tomorrow, the same thing will happen again, right? Right?"

"It is possible." They had come up with several plans how to proceed after a victory, but another massacre was not out of the question, _could _not be out of the question. "I honestly can't say yet."

"See? I told you so." Makalov said in the direction of his sister. This time, there was no triumph in his voice.

"Your Highness, I swear to you that he's serious about this!" Marcia's tone was pleading and almost desperate. "He's not trying to shirk his duties, or defect to the enemy! He'll just disappear and... and..."

"And you may never see him again," Elincia completed her sentence. She had no blood siblings of her own, but she knew very well how painful farewells could be.

"Who would want to see such a useless lump?" Marcia asked sullenly. "I was happy to see him go so he couldn't embarrass me anymore."

"Do you really mean that?" Makalov asked in shock. "Of course not!" Marcia replied immediately. "I mean... uh..." She shook her head in despair and peered at Elincia. "Can you please let him go?" she asked. "I'll fight twice as hard to make up for him!"

"I... I'm not sure." Elincia was debating with herself what to do. Was it not her fault that Makalov had decided to flee? Could she force him to commit even more acts of murder?

_But he can't be the only one feeling like this. If I let him leave, why not others? I'm the queen. I have to be impartial._

_But then again, others are not trying to escape. Others may be able to bear it, and live with it. Makalov, on the other hand..._

"Get off your horse," Elincia told Makalov. "Come on, do it."

"Is... is this all right?" the would-be deserter asked his sister, as if he required her permission. "She... she won't hurt me, will she?"

"I won't hurt you," Elincia answered in Marcia's stead. "In fact, I will let you leave. But your horse belongs to Crimea, and it can be used by another knight in the coming battle. You will not be allowed to take it with you."

"Do what she says, you dimwit, or do I have to drag you out of the saddle?" Marcia hissed at her brother. "Didn't you hear her? She's letting you leave, so don't look the gift horse in the mouth! I mean... uh... well, she's not gifting you the horse, but still..."

"I get it," Makalov said and clumsily dropped out of his saddle. "Can I at least keep my sword?" he asked Elincia. "If I'm on foot, I have to protect myself from bandits and wayfarers and the like!"

"We're not lacking in weapons," Elincia said, "so go ahead." She walked up to Makalov, who seemed to shrink as she approached him, and put her face close to his. "But never, ever tell anybody that I let you go," she warned him. "In fact, never tell anybody that you used to be a Royal Knight, understood? Just settle down somewhere, start a new life, and forget about your time here."

"I'll forget _some _things all right," Makalov muttered under his breath. "So..." He looked at his sister. "I guess this is goodbye?"

"Don't think you're rid of me forever," Marcia told him. "I'll visit our parents next solstice, and I'll kill you if I don't see your worthless butt at their place!" Rather than pointing out that she could not kill him if he was not present, Elincia smiled thinly in the darkness, somehow convinced that she had made the correct decision, impartiality be damned.

"I'll definitely come," Makalov told his sister and, after an awkward pause, hugged her. "If I don't forget about it."

"Oh, you...!" Marcia pushed him away and shook her fists. "You're hopeless!"

"Keep your voices down," Elincia told them. "We don't want to attract any attention." She glared at Makalov, who seemed to be lingering a bit too much for someone who desperately wanted to get away, perhaps because he dreaded a long walk on foot. "Get going now, before I change my mind."

"Yes, Your Highness!" Makalov snapped to attention one last time. "Thank you for your graciousness." With one last nod toward his sister, he turned around and jogged away from the camp, quickly vanishing into the night.

"I hope he doesn't end up in the enemy camp," Marcia sighed. "He's just... well... hopeless."

"But he's the only brother you have," Elincia said, even though it sounded a bit insipid.

"Thank goodness." Marcia shivered. "Another one like him would be too much for me. Anyway, thank you so much for letting him go." She bowed before Elincia. "I won't forget it." Elincia did not know what to say in response, and after a few seconds, Marcia seized the reins of Makalov's horse. "I'll take him back to the others," she said. "Come on, boy." With a silent snort, the horse allowed itself to be led away by Marcia, and the two figures vanished behind the corner of a tent.

_Who would have thought that even someone as easy-going as Makalov was suffering?_ Elincia asked herself as she watched Marcia disappear. _It should have been obvious, though... war affects everybody._

Though it had ended amicably, the encounter with the siblings had put Elincia into a foul mood. The massacre at Flaguerre had been more costly than she had realized: Not only had it cost her the support of Ike and given the Empire another reason to hate Crimea, it had also affected many of her fighting-men more deeply than she would have thought. Killing those Imperial soldiers might yet turn out to have been a mistake, and despite that, she might have to kill even more tomorrow.

_But more people are always born, and they will become soldiers to avenge the deaths of their countrymen_, Elincia mused. _Massacres like the one at Flaguerre just fuel the never-ending cycle of war. Can it never be stopped?_

If she was victorious in the coming battle, she planned to force the losers into signing blood pacts with Crimea – she still had the empty pages Volke had procured. But would Tibarn and Skrimir sign such documents, even after a devastating loss? Not likely.

_And we haven't won yet_, Elincia reminded herself. _In fact, the battle hasn't even started yet._ She looked at the eastern horizon, but there was still no sign of the sun. _Patience! Just a little more patience, and events will take their course, for good or ill._

Elincia resumed staring into the darkness, but it was not long until the sound of hooves moving on grass caught her attention again. This time, however, it was coming from outside the camp, and she drew her sword and looked into the direction of the noise. Was it an assassin, coming from the enemy camp? Surely, he would know better than to make even a soft sound like this?

_Whoever it is, they can't see in the dark any better than I can_, Elincia told herself in an attempt to calm herself down. _As long as I don't give myself away, I should be–_

"Hello?" a female voice sounded from a small distance. "Is anybody there? We're looking for Queen Elincia!"

_That's Mist! _Elincia recognized the voice of Ike's sister immediately, even though she had not spoken to her in quite a while. _But what is she doing here? And she said 'we'... so who is with her?_

"I am here," Elincia said out loud. She knew that Mist despised all falsehood, and that Ike would never use his sister as bait in a trap, so she felt she could take the risk of revealing herself. "Come closer to the tents, so I can see you."

"E-Elincia?" Mist sounded openly surprised, and Elincia could not blame her; it was quite a coincidence that she was standing in this particular spot at this time. "Is it really you?"

"It is me," she replied. "You can approach me without fear."

"All right," Mist said. "We're coming."

_'We' again. Who is the other one?_

The sound of Mist's horse came closer, and after a few seconds, mount and rider became visible as dark shades. Another couple of seconds, and Elincia could identify the second person who was sitting behind Mist, holding on tightly to her like a scared child.

It was Leanne.

There could be no mistaking her, and not just because she was the only female heron currently alive. She wore a white cloak to protect her against the cold of night (Elincia had never seen a heron wear any other color than white), and her long, golden hair reflected what little moonlight pierced the clouds, enveloping her in a brilliant aura. In comparison, Mist looked positively mundane, with her short brown hair and a drab grey travelling cloak. Her expression was one of caution, and even though Elincia had told her that there was nothing to fear, she held on to the reins tightly, ready to turn around and flee at the first sign of danger.

_What could they possibly want from me? Is this a last-minute-attempt at negotiating?_

"It is you," Mist said when she was close enough to recognize Elincia. She cast furtive glances in all directions, probably to ascertain that there were no ambushers lying in wait.

_As if anyone would have expected this unannounced visit..._

"We are alone," Elincia reassured Mist and raised her empty palms. "Why have you come here?" She kept her tone neutral, devoid of any unreasonable expectations. Any hope for a peaceful solution at the eleventh hour was just that: Hope. But she would hear whatever the two young women had to say.

"I'm just here to escort Leanne," Mist replied without getting out of the saddle. "The bird tribe has very bad eyesight at night. She would never have found her way in the darkness."

"Leanne?" Elincia made a few steps sideways to better see the heron princess, who returned her gaze without hesitation. "I am surprised that you still dare to enter my presence, after what I did to you. You have great courage."

"I am a little afraid," Leanne replied, still holding on to Mist even thought the horse had come to a stop. "But I must come. It is... of large importance." She paused for a while, unsure what to say, or perhaps how to say it. Since there was not much time left until morning, Elincia decided to press her. "Do you have a message from Tibarn? Or Reyson?" She could not imagine either of those two sending Leanne to Elincia with only a single escort, but stranger things had happened.

"No!" Leanne shook her head fiercely. "I came here myself. No one said to. I wanted..." She did not find the right words, and Elincia remembered that her command of modern language was very limited.

"She's here on her own volition, and by her own initiative," Mist helped her out.

"Does your brother know you're here?" Elincia asked Leanne, then looked at Mist. "And does yours?"

"Both Reyson and Ike know," Mist replied. "Reyson even wanted to come along, to protect Leanne... but Tibarn didn't let him. He said that risking one heron was already bad enough."

"Tibarn knows, too? And he approved of this?" There was no end to wonders, it seemed. "Then what is your purpose here? What is so important that you..." Realization came to Elincia. "I see."

"Tomorrow... large battle," Leanne said, her voice heavy with sorrow. "Much pain. Much chaos." She closed her eyes and said what Elincia had already guessed. "I must sing."

"Lehran's Medallion." The Queen of Crimea nodded. "Only the seid magic of the herons can keep its prisoner pacified."

"Tibarn hated the idea, but in the end, he had to admit that it was necessary," Mist explained. "Except for Goldoa, the armies from all nations of Tellius are going to clash tomorrow... or should I say, today?" Mist's gaze turned eastward, and Elincia followed her eyes to see a bright red line on the horizon – the first sign of dawn. "It... it will be horrible," Ike's sister continued, her voice suddenly brittle. "But... if the dark god awakens, that would be even worse. So even if we're enemies now..." She turned to face Elincia again, a pleading look in her eyes. "Please accept Leanne's offer! Let her sing her galdrar once the battle has started! You don't have to give the medallion to her if you don't trust her... she just has to be close to it."

"Of course I will accept her offer," Elincia replied. She still remembered how the medallion had pulsated during the battle of Flaguerre, like the beating of a heart – a heart belonging to a god of chaos and destruction. If that god was to be unleashed, then all her efforts to preserve Crimea would have been for naught. "I'm glad that the herons take their responsibility so seriously." _If she hadn't come, I would have started the battle anyway, hoping for a quick, decisive victory_, she thought, but did not say it out loud.

"Will you promise not to use her as hostage again?" Mist asked. "I mean, if you lose...?"

"I do not plan on losing, thank you very much," Elincia said haughtily. But even if she lost, she doubted that Leanne had much worth as hostage anymore; things had escalated far beyond that. Tibarn's role as protector of the herons was second to his duties as King of Phoenicis, and if it came to that, he would probably accept Leanne's death rather than abandon the war against Crimea. _Sometimes, a ruler has to make personal sacrifices for the sake of their country_, Elincia thought bitterly. _Tibarn knows that, too._

"I will keep her as safe as the circumstances allow," she assured Mist. "Tell her brother not to worry about her."

"Brothers," Mist corrected her. "Rafiel is there, too."

"Rafiel..." Elincia tried to remember the name. "The one who revealed the truth about the Serenes massacre?" Mist nodded. "He joined our alliance along with his protector, Nailah."

"Then they are both fools," Elincia snarled. "This war is none of their business." She looked at Leanne with a dead serious expression. "If your brothers take to the field and support their allies with with their galdrar, they will be treated as enemies, and may well be killed. I know this sounds cruel, but... I hope you said your farewells."

"I said... goodbye." Leanne sounded strangely determined. "They fight. I sing. We do... what we must."

"Good," Elincia nodded. Once again, she was surprised by Leanne's courage and resolve. "Then you're welcome at my side, for as long as the battle lasts." She put forth her hand toward the heron princess, and was surprised for a third time when Leanne firmly grasped it and allowed Elincia to help her off the horse. _She still looks timid on the outside, but she knows what must be done and is ready to do it. In these dark times, everyone has to harden their hearts if they want to survive. _

"Please take care of yourself, Leanne," Mist said to the heron princess once her feet touched the ground. "I really hope we meet again after all this is over."

"Goodbye, Mist. And... thank you." Leanne raised her hand in farewell, and Mist waved back before turning her horse around.

"One moment, Mist," Elincia said before the young woman could spur her horse. This was probably her last chance to pass a message on to Ike, and she would not let it go unused. "When you see your brother, please remind him one more time to heed my warning."

"He predicted that you would say that," Mist replied without turning around. Elincia could not see her face, but she could hear the sadness in her voice. "He wants me to tell you that he won't back down, no matter what."

Elincia listened to her words without comment. Indeed, it would have been very much unlike Ike to show fear at the eve of battle. She had hoped that her warning would have had some sort of effect, but she had to accept reality. Ike was her enemy now, and she was his enemy. The lines had been drawn.

"What about you?" Elincia asked. During the Mad King's War, she had spent just as much time with Mist as with her brother, and had grown almost as close to her as to him. "What will you do?"

"I am a member of the Greil Mercenaries," Mist said, though not without some effort. "I go where my commander leads."

"Mist, listen to me!" Elincia pleaded. "If your brother dies tomorrow, you'll be the last of Sir Greil's children. Even before Ike, your father protected me when nobody else would. So please, don't let his bloodline end. Don't take the field in the coming battle!"

"I don't care about bloodlines!" Mist turned around in the saddle and glared defiantly at Elincia. "I'll never let you kill my brother!" She averted her face again and sniffed, sadness contending with anger. "We used to be friends, but I will fight you by his side," she said. "I'm sorry, Elincia." Without waiting for an answer (and what kind of answer would have been appropriate?) Mist spurred on her horse and galloped toward the enemy camp.

_Another friend lost to war_,_ even if she survives_, Elincia thought as she watched Mist's silhouette grow smaller. _I'm so very sick and tired of it._

"Somebody comes," Leanne suddenly whispered, prompting Elincia to turn around on the spot. But it was only Geoffrey, clad in his riding armor and ready for combat, a worried exression on his face. "Here you are!" he exclaimed, his voice rife with irritation. "How can you just leave your tent without telling anybody..." He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the white-cloaked figure standing next to Elincia. "Leanne? What are you doing here?" He looked wryly at his queen. "Did you abduct her again?"

Although there was nothing humorous about the situation, Elincia still had to laugh out loud. "No, not this time," she said and wiped a tear from her eye, forcing herself to be serious again. "She came of her own free will, to sing the galdr of slumber during the battle."

"And I thought there were no more pleasant surprises in this world," Geoffrey said and nodded at Leanne. "You have my thanks."

"I... I leave you alone," Leanne said in place of a reply. "You two... talk. I stay near." Without waiting for Elincia's permission, she quickly walked toward the center of the camp and soon vanished out of sight.

"She's very considerate," Geoffrey said, looking after her. "In more ways than one." He turned to face Elincia, and a frown came over his face. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes... how can you scare me like that?" He gave her a reproachful look. "I came into your tent to wake you, only to find you gone!"

"I woke up early," Elincia replied. "What about it?"

"Yes, what about my poor, strained nerves?" Geoffrey sighed theatrically. "You got my heart racing before the battle even started!"

"The camp has lookouts and guards, you know," Elincia said. "And I brought this with me from the palace." She pointed at the tiny vial that was hanging on a silver chain around her neck, no bigger than a thimble and filled with a yellow powder. "I did some experimenting yesterday. Even this small quantity of warp powder is enough to transport me anywhere I can think of. It's really quite marvelous... even though it makes you feel like you've been hit by an ox cart afterwards."

"Are you sure there aren't any other side effects?" Geoffrey bent forward and looked at the vial with suspicious eyes. A second later, he realized that he was staring at his queen's chest and turned away his head, blushing. "It's... it's probably safe," he muttered in embarrassment, making Elincia smirk. _Amazing, how he can be concerned with modesty at a time like this._

"It's almost dawn," she said in order to make Geoffrey focus on the current situation again. "Shouldn't you be waking the soldiers soon instead of chasing after me?"

"I've already given the order before I left to... 'chase after you'," Geoffrey replied, raising an eyebrow. "As soon as the first rays of light touch the camp, you'll hear it." He looked to the east, where the sun would rise any minute now, and Elincia followed his gaze. "A good number of the men are already up, though," he said. "Kieran rose early and decided to spar a little before sunrise. And he made a lot of noise."

"Who would want to spar this early?" Elincia asked, enjoying what little small-talk she would be afforded before the bloodshed began. "And with Kieran, of all people. His opponent has to be crazy."

"I'm afraid Kieran is the one being crazy this time," Geoffrey sighed. "Because his opponent is Bertram."

"Seriously?" Elincia was suddenly afraid for the second-in-command of her knights. "They're... they're using training swords, aren't they?"

"I personally made sure they did." Geoffrey grinned. "By the time I left to look for you, Kieran had lost two out of five, and the third fight wasn't looking good for him."

"Bertram has no idea what he got himself into," Elincia chuckled. "Kieran will challenge him again and again, until he's had at least one win for his name."

"Indeed." Geoffrey shook his head. "I foresee lots of broken training swords." The first rays of the sun touched their faces, and both he and Elincia shielded their eyes. "It's dawn," he announced, and a moment later, the inharmonic noise of a dozen trumpets resounded from the center of the camp.

_Time to get up_, Elincia thought even as she covered her ears. _For many soldiers, this will be the shortest day of their lives... and the last._

"Ten minutes for breakfast, ten minutes to suit up and deploy, and the men will be ready to fight," Geoffrey declared. "Shall I fetch you some food?"

"I'm not hungry," Elincia said with a wave of her hand.

"Oh, really?" Geoffrey pointed at Elincia's sword. "If you intend to use this today, you need to be at full strength. So you really should eat something, even if it's just a little."

"I ate before going to sleep. I'm fine."

"If her majesty says so, then it must be true," Geoffrey sighed.

"What about you?" Elincia asked.

"I never eat before battle," Geoffrey replied without blinking. "It upsets my stomach."

"Hypocrite." Elincia playfully punched his side. "What about being at full strength?"

"I draw my strength from you," Geoffrey replied seriously.

"That's a nice thing to say to someone." Elincia smiled, and Geoffrey smiled back. They remained like that for a few minutes, watching the rising sun, while the camp sprang to live behind them in an enormous hubbub of movement and noise. The enemy encampment on the far side of the dew-moist meadow was probably in the exact same state, with tens of thousands of men preparing for the coming slaughter. _There's no difference between us. We're all just people. So why are we going to kill each other?_

Elincia sighed wearily and shook her head. Those were questions she had asked herself three years ago, when she had still been naive and innocent. Today, she knew that it never mattered _why_ war happened, only _that _it happened. It happened, and you had to prepare for it to the best of your abilities. There was nothing else to it.

_But I still hate war. I hate it more and more with every soldier that dies and every child that is orphaned. Is there no way for the world to find peace? Are we doomed to repeat this bloody charade again and again, until we overdo it one day and awaken the dark god, thereby destroying ourselves?_

At a younger age, Elincia had believed that peace could be attained through trust and cooperation – the same belief that had guided her father until his death at the hands of King Ashnard. She was no longer so discriminating now: She would prefer a peace maintained by threat of force to the never-ending series of wars that had been plaguing Tellius since time immemorial. But she also knew that today's battle, even if it ended in a decisive victory for her, would only sow the seeds for revenge and retribution among the defeated.

_If only there was another way..._

A cool wind came blowing from the center of the Crimean camp, carrying a strong scent to Elincia's nose. It reminded her of burnt grease, and at first, she thought that there had been a mishap with the breakfast. But the grim look on Geoffrey's eyes told her that it was something else entirely, which made her realize what she was smelling.

"Our secret weapon," she said with a shudder.

"I still don't like the idea of using it," Geoffrey whispered. "It's just plain atrocious."

"But we're no strangers to atrocities anymore, are we?" Elincia asked. "Killing is killing," she said with cold conviction. "Whether you use a sword, a spell... or boiling pitch. It makes little difference. Death will be more painful, but almost as quick. And if it wins us the battle..."

"I can't believe Micaiah was the one who suggested it." Geoffrey looked back over his shoulder, as if feared that the leader of Daein's forces could be standing behind them. "For such a young woman to come up with something so barbaric..."

"Not that much younger than you or me," Elincia said. "And certainly no more barbaric, seeing as we are implementing her idea."

"I wasn't trying to put the blame on her," Geoffrey replied quickly. "As I told you before, I've forfeited any right to call myself virtuous, or a knight..."

"But you don't want others to become like you," Elincia completed his sentence. "You don't want anybody else to carry the weight of sin. But as with all burdens, it is easier to bear if it is shouldered by many."

"If you say so." Geoffrey straightened his shoulders and raised his chin high. "Enough with the self-doubt! We will see this crisis through together, and use every means available to us, even if our souls are forever blackened by it."

"You almost make it sound romantic." Elincia rubbed her face with her hands. "Of course I wish there was a better way... but I don't think there is one."

"Indeed. It makes me wish that the knightly stories were true... that any quarrel, no matter how serious, could be solved in an honorable duel, without dragging others into it." Geoffrey let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "But in reality, the world does not work that way."

Elincia wanted to reply something to the effect of 'Wouldn't it be nice if we could _make_ it work that way?', but the noise of the trumpets being blown for a second time throughout the camp prevented her.

"Breakfast is over," Geoffrey said and turned to leave. "I have to oversee the deployment of our soldiers, and make sure that our allies are ready as well." He looked back at Elincia one last time before he vanished behind a tent and gave her an encouraging smile. "You should prepare a little speech before the fighting begins. I know you're good at that sort of thing."

But Elincia was far too distracted to start composing verse, even if it would reinforce the morale of her soldiers. There was an idea budding deep within her mind, so deep that she could not even describe it at first – she only knew that there was _something_ taking shape in her head that had been planted by Geoffrey's words. What exactly had he said to her? Something about knightly stories?

_This is a waste of time_, Elincia thought. _I should be focusing on the coming battle._ But even though the first rows of combat-ready Crimean soldiers were marching past her to take up their positions on the meadow that would soon become a battlefield, she could not shake the feeling that she was close to grasping something essential... something that might help her prevent this horrible battle before it even began.

_Stop this childish nonsense! I have to go to Atlas and prepare myself for the fighting._

But Elincia did not heed her own advice, and wasted minutes struggling to make sense of Geoffrey's words that still echoed through her mind. _Solving quarrels with honorable duels? Using every means available to us? Side effects? How does this all go together?_

The modified siege weapons that would throw cauldrons of boiling pitch at the enemy rolled past Elincia, each of them pulled by half a dozen horses. Archers, mages and cavalry left the camp one after the other, joining their comrades and allies on the green field that would soon be red with blood, awaiting only the command of their queen to engage the enemy. Said enemy was even now deploying its forces on the far end of the meadow, tens of thousands of tiny dots moving in formation... and one of those dots was Ike, supreme commander of the anti-Crimean alliance and probably the most powerful warrior currently alive.

_Ike. My idea has something to do with Ike. Something about exploiting his weaknesses... and his strengths..._

The Royal Knights were the last to leave the camp, led by Bertram, Kieran and Geoffrey, who looked expectantly at Elincia as he rode past her. Their role in the battle plan was to guard the flanks of the Crimean army, so the siege weapons hurling scalding death at the enemy could not be easily destroyed. This horrible secret weapon alone would not be enough to win the battle, but it would even the odds... unless Elincia found another way...

_This is infuriating! I know I'm close to the solution! It feels like I can almost clasp my hands around it..._

And then it came to Elincia. The way to decide the battle before it even started, the way to preserve the lives of countless soldiers on both sides and pave the way for a lasting, if coerced, peace. And yet, it would call for her to commit one last evil act... a betrayal of trust so severe that she almost burst out into tears at the mere thought of it.

But Elincia had learned to control her tears, and since her conscience was already carrying a large burden without crippling her, she could afford to weigh it down a little bit more.

_This may be the cruelest thing I ever do, but I will do it without hesitation. I am strong enough. I can bear it._

Her mind utterly focused on what she was about to do, Elincia hurried toward the center of the now mostly empty camp. Only the clerics were there, prepared to treat wounds that might never be inflicted. Taking a corner around a large tent, she almost collided with Leanne, whom she had completely forgotten about. Elincia rushed past her, confident that the heron princess would not have to sing a single galdr today. Lehran's Medallion was still in her belt pouch, cold and silent, with the dark god waiting for a day of reckoning that would never come.

At the center of the camp, right next to her tent, stood her pegasus Atlas, saddled and bridled and awaiting his mistress. With a quick pat on his head, Elincia swung herself on his back and rode out of the camp toward the awaiting armies. She was greeted by a torrent of cheers from her Crimean soldiers, while dead silence reigned among the fighters of Daein and Kilvas, who were understandably lacking in enthusiasm. Elincia spied Geoffrey at the vanguard of the formation and rode toward him, and the soldiers parted before her like the ocean before the bow of a ship.

"You're just in time," Geoffrey greeted her from the back of his steed. "The enemy seems ready to move out, but so are we. We await your command, Your Highness."

"There's been a change of plans," Elincia told him in a tone that brooked no objection. She had neither the time nor the desire to inform him about the exact nature of that change, but she still needed him to do exactly as she told him to. "It's a bit reckless, but I found a better way."

"A bit reckless," Geoffrey repeated with a frown. "I don't like the sound of that."

"I'm sure you don't," Elincia smiled. "And if by any chance I don't return, I entrust Crimea to you... but I have every intention of coming back."

"What is this about?" Geoffrey looked as if he wanted to drag her off his horse and tie her down. "A chance you won't return? Elincia, what kind of mad scheme did you come up with?"

"It's not so mad that I can't make it work."

"I'm glad that you're so confident, but–"

"Please, Geoffrey," Elincia said earnestly and touched his cheek with her gloved hand. "Trust me."

"That's unfair," Geoffrey complained even as he blushed. "You know I can't protest if you put it that way!"

"That was my intent." Elincia withdrew her hand and turned her mount around to face her assembled armies. "We will move out now," she shouted, "until we're within half a mile of the enemy. At that point, we will stop and you will wait patiently, unless the enemy attacks you first." She looked at Geoffrey again. "Send a messenger to the enemy right now. Inform them that we'll stay out of attack range and ask them to do the same. Tell them that they'll soon hear from me in person."

"In person?" Geoffrey raised his hands above his head. "This is madness!"

"Did I not tell you to trust me?" Elincia asked sharply.

"I... I..." Geoffrey grit his teeth in anger and confusion, then addressed one of his knights. "You heard the queen! Deliver her message to the enemy on the double!"

_All right_, Elincia thought as she watched the newly-appointed messenger gallop toward the opposing army. _If Ike still believes in me, he will hold back his men... until it is too late._

"Give the command, Geoffrey," Elincia told her general. "We have no time to lose."

"As you wish," he replied, and moments later, the combined armies of Crimea, Daein and Kilvas were slowly moving forward, their soldiers none the wiser than their general, but obedient to the commands of their queen.

"I know this is very sudden, but everything will make sense in the end," Elincia told Geoffrey as she rode beside him.

"I believe you." He had regained his composure as quickly as he had lost it, and was probably ashamed for having doubted his queen in front of her soldiers. "Just promise me that you won't sacrifice yourself or anything foolish like that." Geoffrey's voice was shaking. "I don't know what we would do without you... What I would do..."

"You would go on living," Elincia said firmly, "just as I would do without you. Because that's what we've sworn to each others. But don't worry. I already told you that I have every intention of coming back. There are no guarantees but... I think my chances are good."

"Then I won't question you anymore," Geoffrey said. "Although you really could have given a little speech..."

"I'll think of one while we're riding," Elincia replied. "I'm good at that sort of thing, remember?"

"I'm looking forward to it," Geoffrey said, and continued to ride in silence. Only once did he disturb Elincia, when the messenger returned and reported that the enemy had accepted the queen's proposal, and would be moving in to meet them in the middle of the meadow while keeping the agreed distance.

"Will the fact that they're moving out interfere with your plan?" Geoffrey asked, but Elincia shook her head. "It doesn't matter where they are, as long as we're close to them."

After a short journey of perhaps two miles, Geoffrey ordered everyone to halt, and Elincia looked up, having been lost in thought until that moment. The armies of Gallia, Phoenicis and Begnion were clearly discernable now, but she paid them no heed. She was interested in only one man, who would be waiting for her at the center of his own unit, positioned between the forces of Gallia and Begnion. _I'm coming for you, Ike_, she thought with grim resolve, _and I pray that you are ready._

"Here we are," Geoffrey said simply. "Now it's your turn."

"Thank you," Elincia said and turned Atlas around to face her soldiers and those of her 'allies'. The expectant gazes of tens of thousands of men were focused on her, but she felt no nervousness at all at the thought of addressing them. In fact, giving a speech would be positively trivial compared to what she had to do after that, and so Elincia cleared her throat, took a deep breath and began.

"Please heed my words, you soldiers, brave and strong,  
who have assembled, willingly or not,  
to fight today for Crimea and me.

I stand before you, hardened by my pain,  
my will unbroken by the blows of fate,  
and my resolve as powerful as steel.

I have become a cruel and ruthless queen.  
The blood of innocents is on my hands.  
This is a burden I alone must bear.

Know this, my people, who I must protect,  
and you, my allies who I have compelled,  
through threat of nameless death at unseen hand:

I ask not for your love or loyalty,  
nor for forgiveness for my countless sins  
that heavily still weigh upon my heart.

If peace is something people can't achieve  
with their own hands, no matter how they try,  
then I must now step up to this grave task.

Behold! Here are two armies, poised to clash  
and tear into each other with cold steel  
and drown the land beneath a tide of blood.

It is Sir Ike who leads the enemy,  
a warrior and general unmatched,  
once our friend, and mine, but not today.

Is there a king or queen under the sun  
who could defeat a foe so powerful  
without spilling a drop of allied blood?

I say, there is, and so to you I swear,  
upon the name of my beloved friend  
whose death has made me what I am today:

I shall defeat Sir Ike and his large host  
with nothing but these callous hands of mine  
and that which can be fit into their palms.

I ask not that you pray for my success,  
but simply watch me into battle ride  
and bring about today the end of war."

As soon as her last words had faded away, Elincia turned her pegasus around and had him gallop toward the enemy army. She knew that every one of her soldiers was staring at her back, be they awed or confused, upset or impressed, but she could only look straight ahead now. Once Atlas had gained enough speed, he commenced beating his wings and took off, carrying Elincia toward the heart of the enemy.


	36. The End of War

**Chapter 36: The End of War**

Ike was feeling uneasy while he waited for Elincia's arrival, surrounded by his staff officers and the senior members of his company. Every last one of them was either agitated or anxious, a predictable result of the battle being postponed or perhaps even called off entirely. Some thought that Elincia was setting up a trap (Soren), while others prayed for a peaceful solution (Rhys), and those who had no real opinion contended themselves with waiting.

He was one of those without an opinion, Ike realized. He remembered Elincia's warning that she was not above resorting to foul play to defeat him, but he also held on to the hope that her old, gentle self would somehow resurface and find a way to prevent the fighting, even if she had to abdicate as Queen of Crimea. Although he was a mercenary who lived and breathed combat, Ike did not enjoy bloodshed like some others did, and as long as the armies of Crimea and her allies made no treacherous move, he would wait.

"You will soon hear from her majesty in person," the Crimean messenger had said. The enemy army was only half a mile away from Ike's position, and he thought he saw a white-clad human figure on a pegasus, her back turned to the allied forces as she inspected or perhaps addressed her troops. _What is she doing? _Ike wondered. _Giving orders for a surprise attack? We must prepare ourselves for that eventuality._

"Send a message to our allies," Ike told Titania who was waiting at his left side. "They must be ready to defend themselves in case Elincia betrays us."

"A wise precaution," Titania agreed. "Shall I tell them that they're free to counterattack?"

"No." Ike shook his head. "That would just lead to our forces being divided. They can fight back, but they must stay in formation until they receive orders from me."

"Understood. I'll send messengers immediately." Titania left to execute her commander's orders, and Ike felt that his unease was slightly diminished. Whatever it was that Elincia was planning, she would not catch him unprepared. He still found it hard to think of her as the enemy, but she had forced this view upon him, and there was nothing Ike could do about it. He remembered her threats, and took them very seriously, but he would never give in to them. That was not his way.

"I don't like this, Ike." Soren, who had fully recovered from his fall (or rather, leap) in Carcass Gorge, and had taken up his rightful place at Ike's right side today. "We are wasting a valuable opportunity by standing around and waiting. I'm convinced that Elincia is going to attack us. We must beat her to it and attack her first."

"Out of the question," Ike said. He had expected his ever-distrusting tactician to make a suggestion like this, but he had no intention of heeding his advice. "If there is treachery today, we won't be the ones guilty of it."

"The knowledge of having done the right thing is of little comfort for the dead," Soren said sourly. "And I know that Elincia is planning to betray your trust! She has become utterly ruthless recently." He scowled and looked up at Ike from the corners of his eyes. "You could stand to learn a thing or two from her."

"Thanks, but I'll pass." Ike raised his hand to signal Soren that he had heard his opinion, and that was that. "This debate is over."

"Indeed it is," Soren said cryptically and gazed past Ike at the enemy army. "She's coming."

Alarmed by his words, Ike turned his head and followed Soren's gaze, just in time to see the pegasus and its rider take off into the air. The winged beast flew straight toward the Greil Mercenaries, its low altitude and moderate speed proof that it was not an attacker. It crossed the distance between the two armies swiftly, and even before it was halfway there, Ike could tell that the rider had long, green hair.

_So she's really coming. _For some reason, Ike's right hand touched the hilt of his new sword Alondite. _If she is out for blood, then I will be ready._

Elincia circled several times above the heads of the Greil Mercenaries, no doubt trying to find their leader among them. Ike resisted the urge to raise his hand and wave – that gesture would have been wholly inappropriate, considering that she was the enemy commander.

_I think she spotted me_, he thought when he saw Elincia's pegasus fly a long u-turn and slowly descend toward his position. "Make room for her to land!" he cried out, and within seconds, his mercenaries formed an empty space several dozen feet in diameter, just barely enough for a skilled pegasus rider to touch down safely._ If she lands here, she will be surrounded by my men_, Ike thought, but that did not seem to stop Elincia: Her pegasus slowly approached the small circle that the Greil Mercenaries had formed for her and descended to land.

"I've got a clean shot," Shinon's voice suddenly sounded behind Ike. "Just say the word... commander." Ike spun around on the spot and saw that master marksman had drawn his bow and was aiming at the Queen's pegasus. "Put down your weapon right now!" he yelled.

"Still such a nice little boy," Shinon sneered as he lowered his bow. "I could have saved us a lot of trouble, you know."

"Nobody touches Elincia without my say-so!" Ike raised his voice even more and addressed all of his men. "That goes for everybody!"

"Just come out and say that you want to be the one to put down your fallen love," Shinon snarled. Before Ike could come up with a suitable response to this ridiculous suggestion, the sound of hooves touching the ground told him that Elincia had landed. "Welp, so much for shooting her out of the sky," Shinon said in a casual tone that aggravated Ike. "But if you don't have the heart for it, I can still do her the mercy, commander."

"Just shut up now," Ike growled and turned to face Elincia, who had already dismounted and was letting her gaze wander across the circle of mercenaries that surrounded her. It gave him time to look at her more closely: She was wearing the same white suit of armor that she had used during the final stages of the Mad King's War, and she was wearing the royal family's sword Amiti in a scabbard at her side. But then, it was only natural for the leader of an army to be dressed for war, and Ike did not expect Elincia to actually use her sword, at least not while she was surrounded by his men.

_Then again, she might try to surprpise me and take me hostage, in the hope that she can force our armies to withdraw. _Once again, Ike touched the grip of Alondite, the sword that had once belonged to the Black Knight. _I doubt she would try something that foolish... but desperation can make people do strange things._

However, the slow, deliberate way Elincia moved did not make her seem at all desperate, Ike had to admit. She was inspecting the Greil Mercenaries as if they were visitors of a country fair, not battle-hardened warriors, and when her gaze finally met Ike's, he almost marveled at the unwavering resolve in her black-rimmed eyes. At that moment he knew that whatever she had come here to do, she would do without fail unless he stopped her by force.

_But I will not be the first to restort to violence_, Ike told himself and forced his hand away from Alondite. _Not while there's still some hope left for her..._

"Greetings, Ike," Elincia said, her voice utterly unreadable. Both of her white-gloved hands were clenched to fists, but there was no sign of anger on her face. "To be honest, I thought I would never talk to you again."

"Then let's make our words count." Ike stepped into the circular space toward Elincia, ignoring hushed protests from Soren and Mist who remained behind. "What are your intentions?"

"Let me through!" an angry, familiar voice sounded from somewhere to Ike's right before Elincia could answer. "Let me through, damn you!"

_This could be a problem_, Ike thought as he watched Skrimir (untransformed, fortunately) push and shove his way through the rows of mercenaries surrounding Elincia and him. "Allow me," he said and moved between the Queen of Crimea and the spot at which Skrimir was going to emerge. "No, I won't," Elincia said and stepped out of his shadow. "The time when you protected me is long past."

_Is she trying to make this more difficult for me?_

A few seconds later, Skrimir emerged from between the surrounding mercenaries, performing the impressive feat of pushing a fully-armored Gatrie aside with one arm. "Where is she?" he blurted at Ike, his face red and his voice way too loud. "Where is that beorc woman who killed my father?"

"King Skrimir, I presume?" Elincia made a step toward the angry laguz king, and Ike felt his nerves stand on end. "If you're looking for the mastermind behind the murder of King Caineghis, I'm afraid I cannot help you. However, if you're looking for Queen Elincia of Crimea... She is standing right in front of you."

"What? You are..." Skrimir stared at Elincia with his eyes wide open, and only his surprise might have prevented him from transforming and attacking her. "I thought she was much... larger."

"Unlike us, beorc don't chose their kings for their physical strength," a new voice sounded from above. "I thought you knew that already, King of Beasts."

_Things are getting better and better_, Ike thought grimly as he watched Tibarn (also untransformed, fortunately) land right next to Skrimir. The Hawk King was more composed than his Gallian counterpart, but he was still glaring at Elincia from disdainful eyes.

"Just so both of you know, as long as Elincia does not draw her sword, she is under my protection," Ike said sharply. "Even if she doesn't want it." It was not a tone to take lightly with a laguz king, let alone two, but he would not allow either of them to hurt Elincia without provocation.

"I assume that goes for me, too?" a third voice sounded from behind Ike, who turned around with a frustrated moan. The Imperial General Levail had entered the circle from the other side, his vicious-looking lance in hand, but not pointed at Elincia. "You killed three thousand of my men in cold blood," he informed her, his voice surprisingly calm. "And it took you all of five minutes to do so. For that reason alone, I wanted to meet you in person."

"Then you must be the general who led the Central Army in the battle of Flaguerre," Elincia replied, turning her back on Tibarn and Skrimir without hesitation. "I will make no excuses for what I have done." Apparently, that was all she had to say to Levail, and she turned to face Ike again. "You asked about my intentions," she began.

"If you're not here to admit your guilt and beg for mercy, then why did you come in the first place?" Skrimir roared. "If you are trying to stall for time, I will–"

"Ike, you're the general of this army," Elincia said without deigning to even look at Skrimir. "So please tell your subordinates to be silent."

"Subordinates?" the young King of Gallia growled. "How dare you–"

"Let it be, Lion King," Tibarn said. "We willingly surrendered a portion of our authority when we appointed Ike supreme commander of our forces. We cannot go back on that now, not in the face of the enemy."

"So even a king has to take orders sometimes," Skrimir spat. "But if it's from Ike, I guess it's all right."

_Thanks, Tibarn_, Ike thought, although he wondered how much of the Hawk King's restraint was owed to the fact that Leanne was in Elincia's custody once more.

"Your ability to earn the respect of all kinds of people never ceases to amaze me," Elincia said, and Ike thought that her voice betrayed a tiny hint of warmth. "You would have made a sple–" She stopped in the middle of the word and fiercely shook her head, no doubt angry at herself for her lapse into sentimentality. "Enough with the niceties," she said, her voice cold and unreadable once more. "You wanted to know why I'm here."

"Then tell me," Ike said, struggling silently against the onset of anxiety. He had the feeling that he would not like what she had to say.

"We are about to engage in what may be the largest battle in the history of Tellius," Elincia stated. "Vast armies from almost every nation of the continent will clash. The death toll will easily rise into the tens of thousands. And if worse comes to worst, Leanne's efforts will not be enough to contain the dark god in the face of all the chaos and suffering."

"You paint a grim image, but an accurate one," Ike replied. _Is she trying to make me back down? She must know that it's pointless!_

"I have found a better way to resolve our conflict," Elincia announced. "A duel between the two of us."

"What?" Ike could not believe his ears, no matter how reliable they usually were. "I don't think I heard you right."

"You heard me just fine," Elincia said with a thin smile, "but I'll repeat it anyway." She raised her voice so that all the mercenaries surrounding them could hear her. "I challenge you to a duel, Ike. To preserve the lives of countless laguz and beorc who have no business dying for a quarrel between kings and queens, and to prevent the entire continent from being destroyed by the awakening of a being that should best remain undisturbed."

A tide of excited shouts and murmurs swept over Ike. Many of his men were urging him to accept Elincia's challenge, while others insisted that he should ignore her and lead them into battle. He looked at the Queen of Crimea as if he could make her admit that it had all been a bad joke if he only stared hard enough, but he had no such luck: Elincia's expression was set in stone, patient and deadly serious, and it seemed that she could wait forever to hear his reply. The entire situation was beyond absurd.

"Silence!" Ike finally yelled, loud enough to make his throat hurt. He did not have to repeat himself, for the Greil Mercenaries were used to obeying their commander's orders without hesitation. Their chattering and shouting ceased as if it had been cut short with a knife, and Ike took a deep breath before answering Elincia.

"Your challenge makes no sense," he said. "If I defeat you, you will lose your life... or, if you're lucky, only your throne. But if you defeat me..." He pointed his thumb at Tibarn and Skrimir, and the other at Levail. "I doubt those three are just going to take their armies and go home."

"General Ike is right," Levail told Elincia. "I have no doubt that he would handily defeat you... but even if he were to lose, my men and I would still fight you. We are under orders of Prime Minister Sephiran to defend the Empire, and that is what we will do."

"I agree with the beorc," Tibarn said. "I have no idea who gave you this foolish idea, Queen of Crimea, but I guarantee you that Phoenicis will not be bound be the outcome of this duel of yours." He laughed out loud. "Not that it matters, since Ike won't lose to you. He defeated both the Black Knight and King Ashnard in single combat, for goodness' sake!" The Hawk King shook his head in disgust. "You have lost all touch with reality."

"I was challenged to a duel once," Skrimir said in an almost wistful tone. "By the same man who later murdered my uncle in the name of this beorc female." He let out a grim laugh. "I no longer trust anyone who wants to decide a war in this manner. It is the honorable way... but people are not honorable enough for it." He shook his head firmly. "Even if the beorc female wins, Gallia will not accept her victory."

"Well, you heard them," Ike said to Elincia, who had listened to the words of the three leaders without showing any reaction at all. "Even if I accept your challenge, there's nothing in it for you. Because even if you win, you will still be trapped in here, along with three people who hate you very, very much." He hesitated for a moment, but decided that this was the wrong moment to try and spare her feelings. "And with all due respect to your fencing skills, I don't think you stand much of a chance against me."

"I hear you," Elincia said without commenting on Ike's prognosis. "And I heard those three. But all your words will not change a thing. My challenge stands."

"But that's insane!" Ike cried out in frustration. "Do you want to die that badly?"

And as he heard the sound of his own words and looked at the emotionless mask that was Elincia's face, Ike finally understood. He had said it out loud without even realizing it.

"I see," he said, and an unfathomable sadness overcame him. "You _do_ want to die." He averted his gaze, unable to look at Elincia's impassive expression anymore.

"So the old Elincia still exists," Ike whispered. "And she cannot go on living with what she has done." From one moment to the next, his vision turned blurry, and he felt a strange wetness in his eyes.

_But it isn't raining_, Ike thought in confusion. _Why is there water on my face?_

Irritated by his impaired vision, he tried to wipe his eyes dry, and when he touched his face with his fingers, he recognized it as a gesture that he had often seen in others.

For the first time in his life, Ike was crying.

"You did not come here to defeat me," he said, unashamed of his tears. "You came to die by my hands, as punishment for the horrible things you've done." For the third time since Elincia's arrival, he touched the hilt of Alondite, and this time, he drew it from its scabbard. "I accept your challenge." Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Tibarn, Skrimir and Levail respectfully step back, leaving only Ike, Elincia and her pegasus in the circular space that suddenly looked very much like an arena.

"I'm glad that you accept," Elincia said without a hint of emotion in her voice. "You have just saved the lives of countless soldiers from both sides. Now, may I make one last request?"

Ike shuddered at the wording of her question and only nodded.

"I want to send Atlas back," she said and nodded at her pegasus. "Is that all right?"

"It is," Ike said hoarsely. _What more proof do I need? She has no intention of ever going home again._ "Open a way for him," he said, and his mercenaries obeyed.

"Go to Geoffrey," Elincia told her pegasus with a gentle voice. "Geoffrey. You know who that is, right?" Atlas snickered as if in confirmation and trotted through the gap opened by Ike's men, toward the Crimean army waiting half a mile to the north. The gap quickly closed behind him, and now Ike and Elincia were the only ones within the circular space amidst the Greil Mercenaries.

_She still hasn't drawn her sword,_ Ike noticed. _Perhaps she's having second thoughts?_ But as if she had been reading his mind, Elincia removed Amiti from its scabbard. Like Ike, her fighting style was one-handed, with her sword held in her right, while her left remained tightly clenched to a fist, as if she was struggling against an onset of mortal fear. Ike had seen many a veteran soldier tremble when going up against him, and could hardly blame her.

"I probably don't have to tell you this," he said as he made a dozen steps backward to ensure that there was some distance between Elincia and him at the start of the duel. "But I will not try to disarm you or only injure you or something like that. I cannot go easy on anybody in a real fight, not even on you."

"Indeed," Elincia replied. "You didn't have to tell me this." She assumed the typical fighting stance of a fencer. "Ready when you are."

Seeing Elincia actually point a sword at him almost made Ike's resolve crumble. He thought he had prepared himself for this moment... but could he really do it? Even though he was much stronger than she was, her blade was as sharp as his, and for the sake of his own survival, he could not afford to fight her half-heartedly.

_I must think of her as a comrade who has been deathly injured in battle, and is begging me to grant her relief from her pain_, he decided. _I am merely fulfilling her request by ending her suffering._

"There's one last thing I want to tell you," Ike said before raising his sword. "During the last few days, I tried to think of you as an enemy, so that when the time came, I would have the courage to fight you. But I just realized that I can also... no, that I can _only_ fight you as your friend." He heard the sound of someone crying behind him, but he did not turn around to see who it was. His own tears had stopped, and for the purpose of this duel, that was all that mattered.

"If you cannot stop walking down the path of evil, then I will stop you, as your friend. Even if I have to kill you, I will save you from yourself." Taking one last deep breath, Ike pointed Alondite at Elincia and made a single step forward.

"Have at you."

As soon as he had made that first step toward Elincia, Ike experienced an utterly strange sensation. It was as if an impenetrable veil had been lowered around the circular space that was their dueling arena, shutting out everything and everyone beyond. Ike knew that Soren, Mist, Titania and all the others were close by and watching him, but for all intents and purposes, they could have been at the other end of the continent. If the rest of the world beyond the veil had vanished right now, Ike would not have noticed it – this circle _was _his world now, a world inhabited only by two people who were trying to kill each other. The laws of this world were the laws of the sword: The laws of thrust and strike, of subtle feint and crushing blow, of blade clashing with blade and strength vying with agility. Ike and Elincia obeyed these laws to the letter, for there was nothing to do in this small, sealed-off world other than fighting, and once the fight ended, the world would end along with it.

Ike was strong, perhaps absurdly so; stronger than anybody he had ever fought or sparred with. Elincia was no match for him in that regard, but she compensated for it with a speed that defied description. She ducked and dodged and sidestepped whenever Alondite came crushing down upon her like an executioner's axe, and she wielded Amiti as if it weighed nothing, lunging and thrusting and withdrawing and lunging again. But Ike's swordsmanship consisted of more than just brute strength, and with quick, efficient movements, he parried every attack Elincia made, surprised how dearly she was selling her life when she had already given up on it.

Most fights Ike had been in during his life, even the important ones, had been over surprisingly quickly, often decided by a single sword-shattering blow or a leaping attack from an unblockable angle. But if he had expected his duel with Elincia to conform to these standards, he was quickly proven wrong, for the fight lasted longer than any other he had ever been in. He could not say just how long – time seemed to flow differently in this enclosed world – but it was long enough to make him breathe as heavily as after an hour-long battle. Elincia, too, was panting and gasping with every thrust she made, but even though both fighters were reaching their limits, their bodies did not allow them to lessen their efforts. It was as if they had lived their entire lives for this one fight without knowing it, as if they were expending their energy intended for future decades lest they die today and let it go to waste.

When the end finally came, it came as a surprise for both. Wielding his sword like a scythe, Ike struck at Elincia with all his might, and whether from exhaustion or carelessness, she failed to dodge his blow – a blow that would have disemboweled her had she not moved Amiti in Alondite's path at the last possible moment. But the sacred twin blade of Altina proved stronger than the heirloom sword of house Ridell, and with the sound of a diamond being shattered, Amiti was sundered in two. The sheer force of Ike's attack sent Elincia sprawling to the ground, and he almost made another attack against his defeated opponent, his muscles acting on their own in a sequence of movements beyond his control, until realization set in and he stayed his hand.

Ike had won, and against all hope, Elincia was still alive.

The veil around the circular space was lifted, allowing victor and defeated to rejoin the outside world. A deafening wave of cheers assaulted Ike's ears, but not one of the mercenaries dared to enter the dueling area, not until their commander had decided what to do with his vanquished opponent. It was a decision Ike could make without thinking. Despite her past claims that she had changed almost beyond recognition, the exhausted young woman slowly struggling to her feet before him was still Elincia, and since she had trouble getting up, Ike extended his left arm and offered her his help. Without as much as a pained groan, the defeated queen reached out her left hand that had been clenched to a fist during the entire fight. Ike clasped it and helped her to her feet, surprised how warm her hand was even though she was wearing gloves.

"Farewell," Elincia said, her voice little more than a whisper, and unclenched her fist in Ike's left hand before withdrawing her arm. Ike felt something warm and metallic against his fingertips and–

There was a voice speaking in his head. Loud. Droning. Female.

_"You are brave to seek my gift. Few mortals desire it, and even fewer enjoy it. But is the only gift I have._

_My gift is absolute freedom, absolute chaos. With it, you can do whatever you want, what you always wanted to do, what you never wanted to do. Things that make sense, and that don't make sense._

_Live unbound by the rules of men. Become the master of your own future, the sole arbiter of good and evil, the shatterer of good and evil._

_Re-make your life. Destroy all that you love, all that you hate, all that you see. Embrace your fear and joy and drives and desires. Cast off the shackles that bind you and set yourself free."_

"No!" Terror gripped Ike. The voice was overpowering... he could not fight it... but he had to! He knew what it was... knew what would happen to him if he did not fight it. "Stop this foolishness!" He tried to let go of the object in his hand, but it was as if it had been melted to his palms.

_"Freedom! Chaos! Embrace life and death and free yourself fulfill your own desires make yourself the master of the moment go and fight and bleed and die and kill and live and..."_

"No! Please, don't make me do this! NOOO!"

_"life death chaos freedom fight loss victory blood glory sorrow joy life. life is short live it now do it now don't hesitate do it do it do it!"_

In the end, it was too much. Too much for one man, for _any_ man. The barriers around his mind collapsed, and with Alondite in his right hand and the Fire Emblem in his left, Ike gave himself up to chaos.

* * *

There was no time to think or to regret, only to act. The moment she had put Lehran's Medallion into Ike's hand, Elincia dove away from him and tore the vial from the chain around her neck. She opened it and poured the contents on her palm, and envisioned the spot where she had departed from Geoffrey earlier. An instant later, the world vanished around her, sparing her from watching the dreadful consequences of her actions.

Elincia collapsed immediately, every muscle in her body failing her at once. She lost her sight and hearing, but told herself that both would return soon; she knew that because she had tested the warp powder before. It would only take a couple of seconds...

_I've done it. Goddess curse me, I've done it. Right now, Ike is... _She retched at the mere thought of what must be happening among the Greil Mercenaries at this very moment, and she almost fainted. _This is no time for weakness! _she told herself. _My plan isn't finished yet..._

Elincia felt two strong arms seize her and help her up, and she could almost tell from the touch who their owner was. "Geoffrey, is that you?" she asked, and was relieved when she could hear a faint "yes' in response. "Don't worry about me and listen carefully," she said, hoping that her voice was strong enough to be understood. "Have our soldiers surround the enemy forces. Their leadership is... in a state of chaos right now. Surround them, but don't attack unless they do." She coughed, her throat almost devoid of moisture. "Hurry, Geoffrey! Do it now, or everything will have been for nothing!"

"Yes, Your Highness," Geoffrey's faint voice reached Elincia's ears. _Why isn't he louder? My hearing should have come back already..._ But rather than recovering, Elincia felt herself growing weaker. _It must be because the duel already drained most of my strength_, she thought. _I underestimated the side effects of the warp powder..._

"Hold on, Elincia," she heard Geoffrey say, and felt her body being carried in his powerful arms. "I'll get you to a healer."

"No... you must do as I told you!"

"Kieran... well in hand." She could understand only parts of what Geoffrey said. "You... greatest responsibility... worry... be just fine..."

_Yes, I'll be fine,_ Elincia thought. Even in her helpless state, she knew her own body well enough to realize that she was not going to succumb to her exhaustion. She would recover soon and reap the fruit of her cruel labor... while others were paying the price in blood.

_I'm sorry Ike, but there was no better way. _Elincia felt tears run down her cheeks even as she drifted toward unconsciousness. _I know that you will never forgive yourself if you live... so I hope that you will find at least a painless end._

Wondering if she could ever do penance for the sins she had committed today, Elincia prayed for the souls of Ike and his comrades until she was embraced by oblivion.


	37. The End of Love

**Chapter 37: The End of Love**

When Elincia came to, the weakness in her limbs was gone, and her eyesight had been restored completely. She felt like she had awakened from a long, refreshing sleep, and was surprised when she found herself lying on a blanket in the grass, under the open sky outside of Melior, right on the spot where she had fainted.

"It's good to be alive," she said for no particular reason and tried to rise. Her legs were a bit shaky, but not shaky enough to prevent her from standing.

"Elincia! Thank goodness you're awake!" Geoffrey appeared in her field of vision, a small bottle filled with a blue liquid in each of his hands. "I thought you needed more elixirs, but..."

"How long was I out?" she asked

"About ten minutes."

"Only ten minutes?" Elincia could hardly believe his words. "But I'm feeling so much better!"

"There were no healers anywhere near, so I gave you the most powerful healing potion I could find," Geoffrey said. "Are you sure you don't need another?" He raised the two elixir bottles and gave her a questioning look.

"I'm fine now," Elincia said. "What about the enemy?"

"We surrounded them as you commanded," Geoffrey said as he put the bottles down. "It seems that some sort of infighting broke out just after you warped back to us." He looked at Elincia expectantly. "I assume that was your doing?"

"It was," Elincia replied. _But I don't want to explain it to you..._ "Everything worked... just as planned." Saying these words brought her no joy, and she simply wanted to fall asleep again. But the elixir had worked uncannily well, and she felt no weakness at all, so she could not justify lying around while there was still work to be done.

"I'm going to go back," she announced.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Geoffrey sighed. "And while you won't listen to me, I still have to say this: It's too dangerous."

"I don't care. I have to go." _I have to see with my own eyes what I've done... and take care of some important matters_. The sound of snickering behind her caught Elincia's attention, and she turned around to see her pegasus. "Atlas! So you made it back!"

"Incidentally, he nearly gave me a heart attack when he returned without you," Geoffrey said dryly.

"But I told you to wait patiently for my return, and that's what you did." Elincia nodded in approval. "You've done well."

"We didn't really do anything, other than surrounding an enemy that seems to be lacking any leadership at the moment. Truth be told, some of them even fled before our troops could encircle them all. Something very scary must have happened over there." Again, Geoffrey looked at Elincia with the clear expectation of getting an explanation, but there was no time for that. "Let's just say I sabotaged their leadership," Elincia said evasively. "And now I must find what's left of them and start negotiating." She quickly mounted Atlas and seized his reins. "Ready for another trip?" she asked, and her mount whinnied in response.

"Look, this is insane," Geoffrey said and stepped into Atlas' path to prevent Elincia from departing. "They'll tear you apart after... whatever it is you did to them. You don't even have a sword anymore!"

"Then I will wait long enough for you to send a messenger to the enemy, informing them that you will drown their entire force in boiling pitch if I'm not back after twenty minutes," Elincia commanded. "They will not throw away their lives just so they can kill me out of spite. Unless I'm completely wrong, their spirits should be completely broken."

"At least you're seeing reason," Geoffrey sighed with relief, "although I don't relish the image of you being burned to death with scalding pitch." He ordered a mounted knight to deliver Elincia's message. "It should only take him a few minutes," he told her. "Until then, can you tell me exactly what you did?"

"I suppose I have no excuse now, do I?" Since she had to tell him sooner or later, Elincia decided on 'sooner' and, with brief words, told Geoffrey everything. His expression turned pale when he learned that she had fought a duel with Ike, and positively ashen when he learned what she had done afterwards.

"That's the most insidious thing I've ever heard," he said. His tone was strangely neutral, as if he was merely making an observation, and carried no hints of disapproval. In spite of her plain and obvious guilt, Elincia felt a little bit relieved.

"Poor Ike," Geoffrey said hoarsely. "Do you think he's still...?"

"I can't imagine it," Elincia said and looked in the direction of the enemy, but her view was blocked by a wall of Daein knights forming a circle around them. "Someone must have stopped him by now."

Before Geoffrey could comment on that, the messenger returned and reported that the enemy was in no condition to fight back anymore. He also said that they would receive Elincia without hostile intent and were ready to negotiate.

"Then I'll be going," Elincia said. "You stay here, Geoffrey. If you don't hear from me after twenty minutes, consider me dead and drown them in pitch."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Geoffrey replied, and Elincia was amazed that he did not protest against her orders, for they meant that he would be killing her, too, in the unlikely event that she would be taken hostage.

_He didn't protest against what I did to Ike, either, other than calling it insidious, which of course it was. I think I finally dragged him down to my level... now should I be proud of that or ashamed?_

Elincia raised her arm and waved a short farewell at her partner in evil, then had Atlas take off and flew above the blockade. When she beheld the enemy armies, they looked mostly unchanged from her first overflight before the duel... except for the small elite unit that had once been the Greil Mercenaries.

They were still there, of course – several thousand men did not just vanish – but the circle wherein Elincia and Ike had fought was littered with dead bodies. A massacre had taken place there, and although it paled in comparison to the massacre at Flaguerre, it surpassed it in horror for a reason other than the number of victims: The perpetrator had been a single man, driven to madness by a power beyond human imagining, slaughtering his own friends and comrades against his will. Elincia could only hope that he had at least been unaware of what he had been doing – the alternative was unthinkable in its dreadful implications.

But among all the death, there was life, too, even if it only consisted of healers trying to save those who could be saved. Elincia counted five white-robed clerics when she landed in the corpse-littered circle (Atlas somehow managed not to step on any dead bodies), searching for survivors to use their staves on. But it appeared that their search was mostly fruitless, because only two of them were actually kneeling on the ground and trying to heal those who had survived Ike's rampage.

_Was it truly Ike who did all this? _Elincia asked herself while trying to estimate the number of the dead – they had to be more than a hundred! She saw General Levail, dead from a gruesome head wound, his helmet split apart and his lance broken in two. A small distance from him lay Tibarn who had died in hawk form, his throat slashed open and one of his wings cut off. Skrimir was lying on his back right next to him, untransformed and unconscious, bleeding heavily from a cut on his temple. It looked like Ike had knocked him out with a glancing blow before he had had a chance to fight back – which, ironically enough, might have saved his life. A nervous cleric was kneeling in the blood-soaked soil next to the Lion King and tried to slow the flow of blood with a healing staff, but his hands were trembling so much that he failed repeatedly to cast the spell properly. The sight of his commander going into a murderous rampage had shaken him to the core.

_He probably has no idea why Ike did what he did_, Elincia thought. And the shaken cleric was not the only one: Most of the other mercenaries were talking to each other in hushed, confused whispers, trying to make sense of a scene that defied all reason. The terrible power of Lehran's Medallion had only been known to a selected few, and those few had probably not even realized that Elincia had put it into Ike's hands when he had reached out to her.

But the Greil Mercenaries were no fools, and ignorance of the details did not prevent them from knowing who was to blame for their leader's sudden insanity. He had gone mad right after taking the hand of Elincia, who had proceeded to vanish into thin air, conveniently escaping the ensuing killing spree. Fingers were pointed and curses were yelled at the evil queen who had somehow bewitched the company's leader, but nobody dared to attack her: Discipline, superstition and the knowledge that they would all die quick, but painful deaths if Elincia did not emerge from the circle again kept them in line and their anger impotent.

"Your gall is pretty impressive," a hoarse voice demanded Elincia's attention. She turned around and saw Ranulf standing next to Skrimir, his hands clenched to fists and his face red with anger. "Did you come here to gloat? Or to pretend you're sorry?"

"Actually, neither," Elincia replied calmly. She had never seen the easy-going laguz shaking with rage before, but she had to admit that he had every right to be angry. "I came here for several reasons. Such as getting a picture of what I have done." Out of the corners of her eyes, she saw that the nervous cleric attending to Skrimir had still not gotten his healing spell right. "And perhaps lend a helping hand," she added, gently took the healing staff out of the young man's hand and used it to close Skrimir's wounds, which was as shallow as she had suspected – the impact of Ike's sword, not loss of blood was responsible for his unconsciousness.

"Do you think this is going to change anything?" Ranulf yelled at Elincia as she turned back to him. "Do you think I'm going to say 'thank you'? Do you think Skrimir will say it?"

"I expect he will try to tear me to pieces when he wakes up," Elincia said. "And I expect you to restrain him if that happens."

"I'd be of a mind to help him," Ranulf growled, but Elincia did not fear his anger. Even now, he was too rational to do something that would sentence every single one of his trapped soldiers to death. "So now you got a picture," he added with an angry wave of his hand. "Do you like what you see?"

"Where is he?" Elincia asked without responding to Ranulf's question.

"Where is who?"

"Ike, of course."

"What, you want to spit on his corpse? Or perhaps say a teary-eyed farewell?" Ranulf snorted, turned his back to Elincia and knelt down next to Skrimir. "Go find him yourself."

"Very well." Elincia stepped away from the two Gallians and overlooked the site of the massacre. Finding Ike could not be very difficult, seeing as she just had to follow the trail of corpses he had left in his wake. She noticed that most of the low-ranking mercenaries near the center of the circle had died with their weapons in their hands; like Tibarn and Levail, they must have tried to stop Ike even if it meant killing him. But when Elincia came upon the corpses of the senior members of the company, she noted that most of them had died without even trying to defend themselves. Mia, Rhys, Titania, Mist... they all lay on the ground with their hands empty, their bodies stabbed and slashed and their faces contorted in horror – not at their own impending death, but at the fact that death came at the hands of the person they trusted most.

_They were mercenaries about to fight in a war_, Elincia told herself as she walked past their corpses. _They must all have been prepared for death – how they died makes no difference._ It was a callous lie that she did not believe herself, but it was enough to make her go on and keep her from breaking down and apologizing to the dead who could no longer hear her. Then, after a few more steps, Elincia finally found Ike.

He was dead, that much was obvious at first glance: An arrow to the back of his neck had killed him, and he had toppled over like a felled tree, landing right next to the corpse of Soren. The young mage must have been the final victim of his commander's killing spree, for Alondite was still buried in his chest. His face was as pale in death as it had been in life, his mouth open in a desperate plea that had gone unheeded, and his red eyes were filled with such absolute terror that Elincia had to look away. Both of his hands were clasped around Ike's left fist, proof that he had been trying to take Lehran's Medallion away from him. But his final act of service had been a failure, and Elincia could not help but note that Soren might have survived if only he had run away instead of trying to save someone who was already lost.

Not one of the surviving mercenaries had approached Ike, perhaps out of fear that whatever magic had driven him insane might affect them as well if they got too close to him. But though they dared not come near their fallen commander, they were still watching him, and when Elincia knelt down next to Ike, she felt the hateful gazes of hundreds of men pierce her. But looks could not kill, and so she was able to retrieve Lehran's Medallion unhindered from Ike's left hand. His fingers were still clenched around it, and it seemed that even in death, he did not want to surrender the item that had destroyed his life. Elincia had to pry his fingers open one at a time before she could take the medallion back, protected from its baleful influence by the gloves she wore – unlike Ike's half-gloves, they did not expose her fingertips.

_Like father, like son_, she thought as she looked at Ike's corpse again. _Except that the father touched the medallion by accident, while the son was deceived and betrayed._

Although she knew that thoughts like this could only lead to despair, Elincia wondered how Ike had felt at the moment of death. Had the madness induced by the medallion released him in the end, or had it maintained its grip on him relentlessly until the spark of life had fled him? Turning Ike's body on his back to see his face would probably have answered that question, but Elincia was afraid to find out, afraid that his face, too, had become twisted and contorted with horror. She would rather remember the expression he had worn when he had offered her his hand – one of deep sadness and concern, but also of hope that the Elincia he had known was not gone forever.

_But he was wrong. The old Elincia would never have done this to him._

Elincia buried her face in her palms and tried to cry. She failed to do so on earlier occasions, and she knew that if she could not shed any tears now, hunched over the body of the man who had protected her life, who had _been_ her life for an entire year, she would never be able to cry again. She tried to force the tears to come by recalling many of the pleasant memories she had shared with Ike, but it amounted to nothing: Her eyes remained dry.

_Even Ike cried in the end! He tought that I wanted to die, that I could no longer bear the weight of my sins. He took pity on me, but I didn't deserve any of it, and I turned his pity into betrayal. I let him believe that I was trying to repent my sins through death even as I plotted his ruin!_

"You were wrong, Geoffrey," Elincia whispered to herself even as she resisted the temptation of cradling Ike's head in her arms. "I _am_ the most horrible person in the world." She rose to her feet, slowly, deliberately, and threw her head back, staring at the sky. "If there is anyone out there whose evil is greater than mine, let them come before me and prove it!" she shouted. "But there isn't anyone," she whispered when her challenge went unanswered. "Not unless I dig out the rotten corpse of Ashnard with my bare hands."

"Impressive little speech," a raspy, spiteful voice spoke somewhere near Elincia. "Now try it again with less self-pity."

"Who...?" Elincia spun around and saw a man rise from the corpses behind Ike, first to one knee, then, pushing his elbow up from that knee, to full height.

"Yes, who?" Shinon asked, pressing both hands against a blood-gushing stomach wound.. "Who would be the last man standing of the Greil Mercenaries?"

"I still see many others standing," Elincia pointed out. A single glance was enough to tell her that Shinon posed no threat, carrying no weapons and standing only shakily on his feet.

"The rank-and-file don't count," Shinon replied with unconcealed contempt. "Amateurs, all of them, compared to the senior members."

"I didn't notice you were still alive." _And I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing._

"Yeah, you walked right by without even noticing me. You probably thought I was just another corpse. How rude."

"You're wounded," Elincia said unnecessarily and pointed at Shinon's bleeding gut wound. "Why aren't there any clerics attending you?"

"There was one, but he said I wasn't going to make it and started praying for my soul." Shinon spat, but it was more blood than saliva. "So I told him to piss off and pray for someone else... like that whelp." He slowly dragged himself the small distance toward his dead commander. "A whelp that turned into a rabid dog... until I put him down." He nodded toward the arrow that had pierced the back of Ike's neck. "Pretty impressive aiming for someone lying in his own blood, eh?"

_Shinon has hated Ike ever since he knew him_, Elincia remembered. She had no idea why, because she had never asked. Perhaps Shinon himself did not know. "I know this must sound horribly false to you," she said, "but... thank you for releasing him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Shinon replied. "I wasn't trying to do him a favor... argh!" He dropped to one knee and nearly keeled over to the side. "Damn this pain! I always knew that dying would hurt, but not this much..."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Elincia asked.

"Yes, saving my life would be nice," Shinon snarled.

"That is beyond my power. But is there anything else you want me to do? Like, delivering a message to someone?"

"Are you kidding?" Shinon spat blood again, showering Elincia in red spittle. "Do you think there's someone out there waiting for me? Me, the nicest guy in the world?"

"I thought there might be," Elincia defended herself. "Everybody can love, you know."

"Bah. Love is for little girls." Shinon grinned contemptuously. "Don't tell me you loved Ikey-boy."

"I... I used to." Elincia had never thought she would admit this to anybody except herself, but it no longer mattered now. "I used to," she said again. "But that was a long time ago."

"Then congratulations are in order," Shinon said. "You're not a little girl anymore." With a snide grin on his face, he broke out into a bloody coughing fit and collapsed.

"Yes." Elincia nodded slowly as she watched the life leave the body of the master marksman. "That's certainly true."

_I should not dwell here for longer than necessary_, she decided_, unless I want Geoffrey to let loose the boiling pitch. And besides, I got what I came for._

Without taking another look at Ike, Elincia walked back to Atlas, passing Ranulf and the still-unconscious Skrimir on the way. "Tell your king to come to my palace before sunset, to negotiate a peace treaty," she said to him, although 'negotiations' were not the best word for what she had in mind. "And tell the same thing to whoever is in charge of Phoenicis now," she added and mounted Atlas. "Your forces will be kept encircled until the treaties have been signed. That is all."

"I will tell Skrimir what you said," Ranulf said icily. "He will decide what to do then."

"If he is half the king his uncle was, he will swallow his pride and meet with me," Elincia said before ordering the Greil Mercenaries to move out of her way so Atlas could take off. Soon after she was airborne again and on her way back to Geoffrey, with feelings of relief coursing through her. Although the knowledge of what she had done to Ike and his comrades would forever be seared into her mind, at least now they were beyond her ability to harm them any further.

* * *

An hour later, Elincia returned to Melior, flanked by Geoffrey and Bertram as she she reached the outskirts of the city. News of her (mostly) bloodless victory had already reached the populace, and she was greeted by throngs of cheering men and women who did not care a whit about the methods Elincia had used: They were happy to have been spared a siege or even the outright destruction of their city, and they expressed their gratitude by shouting the name of her queen at the tops of their lungs.

_"For the royals and nobles who are charged with protecting the people, there is no greater sin than to be defeated in war. It is the ultimate betrayal of the people's trust."_

Soren had spoken these harsh words to her three years ago, and Elincia had never forgotten them. His words had made her cry at the time, but she had also recognized them as the truth – which meant that the inverse was also true: That by preventing a bloody war that might have brought the people of Crimea to ruin, she had fulfilled her duty and proven herself worthy of the trust placed in her. And although this accomplishment did not outweigh her sins, Elincia felt satisfied by the knowledge that she had not discarded her conscience for nothing. Unlike Ashnard, whose evil had ultimately caused the downfall of his own people, _her _evil had served to protect them – if she needed any further proof that she was different from the mad king of Daein, then it was this.

"These are your people, Elincia," Geoffrey said as he walked beside her, his voice swelling with pride. "If you're still looking for someone to judge you, I would say they do not find you wanting. An don't they say that the common folk always know best?"

"That might just be true," Elincia said, even though she feared that it was not that easy.

"Don't look so tense," Geoffrey criticised her. "Stop frowning! This isn't the time for reflecting upon your misdeeds." He sighed theatrically and shook his head. "You're still very young for a queen, you know? You can do so much good during your reign that it will outweigh your evil a thousand times over."

"So there's an optimist hiding under all that stoicism of yours," Elincia said with a grin. "I had no idea."

"And I thought you knew me well," Geoffrey smirked. "Oh, look!" he said upon seeing a group of people standing in the middle of the road. "A welcoming committee."

"How thoughtful of them." Elincia looked ahead and recognized the mayor of Melior along with several magistrates as well as representatives of the craftsmen's guilds. "They even have a flower girl," Geoffrey said and pointed at the young girl, perhaps ten years in age, who was walking toward the queen with a large bouquet of red tulips in her hands. "I hope you're not allergic."

"If I turns out I am, I'll just grin and bear it," Elincia joked and smiled at the fair-haired girl who stood in front of her queen without a hint of nervousness. She wore an expensive-looking white dress and a headband of the same color, and carried herself with an air of elegance rarely found in young children. _Which is probably why she was chosen for this role._

"Our beloved Queen Elincia," the girl said, her voice slightly monotone as if she was reciting words she had memorized earlier, "the people of Melior welcome you back in your city and celebrate your triumph. Please accept this as a small token of their undying gratitude." She lowered her head, made a single step toward Elincia and raised the bouqet of tulips – only to drop it without any prior sign of nervousness.

"Don't worry about it," Elincia wanted to say, but the sight of a stiletto in the girl's right hand took her breath away. Before she could grasp the full urgency of her situation, the girl lunged forward and thrust her weapon at the queen – who felt a strong arm shove her out of harm's way and into a group of onlookers.

_What's going on?_

Elincia caught herself quickly, her mind racing to catch up with what had happened. She turned around just in time saw Geoffrey strike the knife out of the young girl's hand, while Bertram stepped forward and clutched her throat with his gauntleted hands. The girl did not struggle against her captor and instead stared at Elincia with an expression of utter frustration.

_She tried to kill me_, Elincia realized somewhat sluggishly. _A child of her age!_

"Order!" Geoffrey shouted when panic threatened to break out among the masses who had just seen their queen assaulted. "Order!" He peered at Elincia to confirm that she was unharmed and gave her an encouraging nod. "The queen is alive and well, and the.. the malefactor has been arrested! Everything is under control!"

"Your Highness!" The mayor of Melior knelt down before Elincia, his bald head red with shame. "We are... We don't..." He stared at the captured girl, then at his queen, then at the girl again. "We had no idea!" he cried in exasperation. "Who would have thought that a child..."

"Who is she?" Elincia cut him short, utterly uninterested in the man's excuses. "Who is that girl?"

"I... I'm not sure," the mayor stuttered. "She said she was the daughter of a rich merchant, but–"

"You're a fool, old man," the captured girl laughed. Her throat was constricted by Bertram's relentless hold, but he was not choking her: He had learned to kill only when his mistress demanded it. "You really thought I was the daughter of a mere money-lender. How precious!"

"Then let's hear it," Elincia said and gave the girl a piercing glare. "Who are you really?"

"I am the granddaughter of Duke Alm of Kantos, rightful heir to his duchy and avenger of his death," the girl said with overwhelming aristocratic hauteur. From one moment to the next, her youthful features were marred with cold hatred, and her blue eyes had become orbs of blazing fury. "I am his hand that strikes at you from beyond the grave."

_She's a relative of Duke Alm? Well, that explains her tone... and didn't he tell me with his last breath that I would follow him soon? Damn me for underestimating him again, even after his death!_

"Your devotion to your late grandfather is impressive," Elincia said coldly, "but misguided. You have just thrown away your life, and for what? A failed attempt at revenge." She shook her head. "I suppose gambling with high stakes lies in your family's blood."

"I didn't manage to kill you," the girl said, and an insidious smile came over her. "But at least I got your wretched, fawning knight."

"What?" Elincia stared at the stiletto lying on the street, and saw that it had been bloodied. "Geoffrey, where did she–"

"Don't worry, Your Highness," Geoffrey replied and showed her the back of his right hand – the hand he had used to push her to safety. "It's just a scratch." And indeed, the cut on his hand was short and could not be deep, for it was bleeding very little. "Not even worth mentioning."

"Then why is she so gleeful?" Elincia asked, casting nervous glances at the girl who was grinning like mad. "Is she crazy or–"

The sight of a tiny stream of spittle running out of the corner of Geoffrey's mouth made her blood freeze. She had seen the same thing before – seconds after Duke Alm had eaten his poisonous leaf.

"No," Elincia said helplessly. "No, no, no..."

"What's wrong?" Geoffrey asked. "Is there something in my face?" He wiped away the spittle with his hand and frowned. "Is that why you're.. ugh!" He cringed and doubled over, his eyes turned glassy and his breath became ragged. "P-Poison...?" he rasped incredulously and writhed in pain, losing his balance and keeling over.

"Geoffrey!" Elincia caught him before he hit the ground, terrified by how limp his body was. "Geoffrey, stay with me! I beg of you!"

"Elincia..." He tried to look at her, but he could not focus his eyes properly anymore. "You have to go on... without me," he said, his voice almost inaudible among the onset of screams from the crowd. He reached out with his hands in order to touch Elincia's face, but his arms were shaking too much. Sick with fear and helplessness, Elincia took his hand and pressed it against her cheek, a futile gesture that nonetheless made Geoffrey smile.

"You've come so far," he whispered weakly, his eyes lost in hers. "Don't lose sight of your goal now. Walk the path you've chosen... and do not... look... back..." His breathing stopped, his eyes turned white and his head slumped down on his chest. His body was still warm, but that would not be for long, and although Elincia's heart did not want to accept the truth, her mind could not deny it.

Geoffrey was dead.

And in a certain, cruel way, it made perfect sense.

Elincia had sworn herself never to love him, as punishment for murdering Bastian and the other, greater sins that had followed. And yet she had been breaking that oath day after day, for love could take many different shapes. Even if it was never admitted, or pronounced, or consummated, it still was love. Geoffrey and her had strengthened and comforted one another by staying at each other's side throughout otherwise unbearable hardships... what had that been if not love?

_As long as he was at my side, I could never stop loving him_, Elincia realized. _And so it followed that he had to leave my side forever._

Less than two hours ago, she had thought that she would never cry again, no matter what happened. She had not expected to be proven correct so soon.

_I swore to him that I would continue on if he died, and I will not break that vow._

Elincia let go of Geoffrey's hand and rose, overlooking the shocked and angry bystanders. The leader of the Royal Knights had been well-loved by the people, and the crowd was calling for the head of the girl who had murdered him. Bertram was looking expectantly at his mistress, ready to snap her neck if Elincia so much as indicated that such was her wish.

_She is only a child, her thoughts and feelings shaped by the family that raised her_, Elincia thought. Barely old enough to understand the consequences of her actions, the girl had only wanted to avenge her grandfather whose death she blamed on the queen. She was grinning at Elincia with the malice and glee of a vindictive child who had turned the tables on the cruel adults that plagued her.

_I understand her, and I may even pity her_, Elincia thought. _But that won't be enough to save her. _She was feeling no rage or hatred toward the girl, having overcome such harmful emotions for good. But her crime had happened in public and could not be denied... and there was only one possible punishment for her.

"Heed me, scion of Duke Alm," Elincia said formally, her voice unshaken by her loss. "You attempted to murder your queen, and killed her most trusted and faithful servant. That crime cannot be forgiven " The girl said nothing in response, her face twisted in a cruel, gloating smile that Elincia found unnvering. "As the highest judge in the land, I hereby sentence you to death," she concluded, and her verdict was answered with cheers from the crowd. "Do you have a last wish?"

"Bring back my grandfather!" the girl screamed in righteous anger, but Elincia was not impressed. "Gladly," she replied. "As soon as you bring back Geoffrey." When Alm's granddaughter did not respond, Elincia nodded at Bertram. "Kill her," she said, and when Bertram pulled at the girl's arm as if he was going to tear her limb from limb, she quickly added: "Painlessly."

"As you wisssh..."

"A curse on the evil queen, and a curse on House Ridell!" the girl yelled at the top of her lungs, and with a quick movement and a crunching sound, Bertram broke her neck.

"Bury her corpse in the potter's field outside the city," Elincia told the mayor. "Make sure there's no headstone or markings of any kind. I don't want her becoming a martyr for her exiled family."

"Yes, Your Highness," the mayor replied. "I will see to it personally."

_And that's that_, Elincia thought, the matter of Geoffrey's murder addressed to her satisfaction; the feeling that she was letting go of him too quickly outweighed by the simple fact that there was nothing else she could do. _Now I must continue to walk down my chosen path._

"Bertram?"

"Yesss?" The black-clad knight dropped the corpse of Alm's granddaughter like a child dropped a toy that was no longer interesting.

"Carry Geoffrey's body to the palace for me," Elincia said. "Burial services will be held tomorrow." _Because there are still so many things that need doing today._

As obedient as ever, Bertram picked up Geoffrey's corpse and resumed his place at his queen's side. "It isss a pity," he said. "I had wanted to ssspar with him..."

_So even a monster has emotions..._

"I'm so very sorry for your loss, Your Highness," the mayor addressed Elincia, his eyes downcast and his body wet with sweat.."If there's anything we can do–"

"General Geoffrey lived and died for Crimea," Elincia said loudly, addressing not just the mayor, but everyone who could hear her. "Every day of his life, he worked and fought and struggled so that you could live your lives unmolested by the scourge of war. Therefore, if you wish to honor his memory, continue to live your lives as you always have... and tell your sons and daughters about the day when he saved the life of his queen." She looked at Bertram, who was cradling Geoffrey's body in his arms like a child – or at least it looked that way to her. "Let's go."

"Wherever you lead, mistress," Bertram hissed, and together, the two continued on their way to the Royal Palace.


	38. The New Order

**Chapter 38: The New Order**

Elincia awaited the laguz envoys in her throne room, protected by a dozen members of her palace guard as well as Bertram, who was standing on the right side of the throne. She usually preferred to keep the number of guards as small as possible, but the failed assassination attempt in the streets of Melior had made her more sensitive toward threats to her own safety. By all rights, Geoffrey should have been first among his queen's protectors, but he was not with her anymore.

Elincia could not afford to be distracted during the coming 'negotiations', but she was not fool enough to believe that she could just stop thinking about Geoffrey and his untimely end. Rather than attempting the impossible, she decided to always keep him at the back of her mind, to imagine that he was watching over her from a better place like a guardian angel from a fairy tale. It was a childish way of thinking, but it was much, much better than the idea that Geoffrey was gone forever from this and any other world, his existence erased without a trace.

Right next to the throne, to Elincia's left, Silok was sitting at a small writing desk. Today would be his first day as the queen's secretary. Under different circumstances, he probably would have been extremely nervous, but the news of Geoffrey's death had affected him deeply. Upon learning that the man who had freed him from the clutches of his Daein tormentors had been murdered, he had erupted into tears, but he had insisted on taking up his new position as Elincia's aide even when she had told him that he needed not push himself. "You cannot afford to take a break at a time like this, no matter how much you may need it," Silok had told her, "and so neither can I." Now that he was sitting next to Elincia two hours later, his eyes were still red from crying, but his expression was one of unobtrusive resolve, promising that he would do his work quickly, properly and without calling attention to himself.

On the right side of the throne, within an arm's reach of the duly-suspicious Bertram, stood Naesala and Micaiah, their presence requested by Elincia for the sake of demonstrating that she commanded not one, but three entire nations. Both of them were unhappy to be put on display in such a manner, but Elincia had made it perfectly clear that she would not take 'no' for an answer.

On the left side of the throne, next to Silok's desk, stood Kieran, temporary commander of the Royal Knights, and Mordecai, representing the small group of Gallians who had willingly come to Crimea's aid. The tall tiger laguz had been reluctant to accept Elincia's invitation, be it out of shame that he had not sided with his home country or because he disapproved of the queen's methods, but in the end, he had agreed on the condition that Elincia would not harm the envoys under any circumstances. Since she was holding the enemy's entire armies hostage, Elincia saw no need for atrocities anymore, and had agreed to his condition.

So it was, with her slaves and allies on her side, that the Queen of Crimea received the first envoys: Ulki and Janaff, the 'eyes and ears' of the deceased Tibarn, who had jointly assumed command of the forces of Phoenicis. The two hawk laguz, stopping at the white line that had been drawn on the carpet again, carried themselves with the same pride as all members of their tribe did, as if the future of their soldiers, and therefore, their nation, was not entirely in the hands of Elincia. She resolved to let them keep their pride as long as they were cooperative.

"Welcome," Elincia said politely. She was still wearing her armor – it seemed to her that recently, she was wearing nothing else – but she tried not to appear overly martial, even though she was ready to drop all pretenses and resort to threats when it became necessary. "I called you here to discuss what shape relations between our countries should take in the future."

"Discuss? Don't make me laugh." Janaff spat on the carpet, his arms crossed before his chest. "You want us to take our place among your other slaves."

"The people of Phoenicis have long since considered slavery a fate worse than death," Ulki said, much calmer than his comrade, but every bit as contemptuous. "If you threaten us with destruction, you will find out just how deep-seated that conviction is among the hawk tribe."

"I have no doubt that this is true, assuming Tibarn was at all representative of your people," Elincia said dryly. "Stop defiling our king's name by speaking it," Janaff growled. "You weren't even brave enough to face him in person!"

"I faced _Ike_ in person, who in turn proved to have been more powerful than Tibarn," Elincia said haughtily, though part of her wondered why she cared what Janaff thought of her courage. "But even so, courage and power don't count as much among beorc as among the laguz," she added. "We're called 'Children of Wisdom', after all."

"Wisdom?" Janaff laughed. "I call it deceit! That trick you pulled with Lerahn's Medallion was the lowest of the low. Not even Ashnard would have done that!"

"I like to think that he wouldn't have been resourceful enough to come up with the idea," Elincia said with a thin smile. Being compared to the mad king of Daein had lost its sting. "I have no intention to enslave Phoenicis," she continued matter-of-factly, "only to ensure her allegiance."

"That's just mincing words," Janaff accused her, but Elincia shook her head. "No, it's different." She looked at Silok and pointed at the document tube lying on his desk. "Please read the terms of the treaty to us."

"Yes, Your Highness," Silok replied. He removed three documents from the tube, putting them on his desk and proceeding to read out the writing on the first sheet, his voice surprisingly loud and free of stuttering. "With the signing of this document by her rightful ruler, the nation of Phoenicis shall forever become friend and ally to the nation of Crimea. The forces of Phoenicis must never go to war against Crimea or aid her enemies, and they must heed her call to arms whenever she is in need of the hawk tribe's military strength."

"It's just like I said," Janaff exclaimed. "It's nothing but slavery. Our soldiers would be less than mercenaries for you, because at least mercenaries get paid!"

"That much is true," Elincia admitted, "but you're focusing too much on what is written in the treaty. Please think about what is _not_ written there."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"A pity." Elincia looked at Ulki, who had always seemed the more thoughtful of the two hawks – perhaps because he had a natural penchant to carefully listening to the words of others. "What about you?"

"I agree with Janaff that this treaty would make the soldiers of our tribe little more than slaves to you," Ulki replied. "And seeing as we are both soldiers, that is highly unsettling. However..."

"However?" Janaff stared at Ulki in open outrage. "Don't get started with 'however'! We agreed beforehand that we would never let our nation be enslaved by Crimea."

"Allow me to spell it out to you before you rip into your friend," Elincia said. "According to the terms of this treaty, Crimea will have no say about Phoenicis' domestic affairs. Your choice of kings, your laws and commerce, how you live and work... all these things will be yours to determine, as they always have been." Janaff looked at Elincia with open distrust, but at least he did not interrupt her. "I have neither the desire nor the inclination to tell the hawk tribe how to conduct their own affairs. My duty is toward Crimea, to safeguard her territory and protect her people." She turned her gaze to Ulki, then back to Janaff, then to Ulki again. "You both got to know me at least a little during the Mad King's War. Are my words that hard to believe?"

"They would certainly be easier to believe if you agreed to let our soldiers return home," Ulki said.

"Not that your little encirclement could keep us from leaving whenever we wanted to," Janaff added and spread his wings in demonstration. "But you'd probably take that as an excuse to massacre our allies who are stuck on the ground."

"I wouldn't be so sure of your ability to escape my grasp at will," Elincia said. "There are archers among the troops surrounding you, and you would pay a heavy price for your freedom."

"And here we are," Janaff jeered. "Death threats. Took you longer than expected."

"Indeed," Ulki agreed. "Your attitude does little to engender trust in us. Perhaps you just don't realize anymore how you sound to others..."

"I realize it just fine," Elincia said earnestly. "I simply don't care."

"So might makes right, is that it?" Janaff asked, his face rife with scorn. "Is that the lesson you took away from the Mad King's War?"

"Right counts for little in a war. I certainly don't remember Ashnard recognizing my claim to the throne of Crimea and giving up," Elincia said testily. "He was overcome by brute force, and nothing else. Therefore, I think you should rephrase your words." She spent a few seconds in contemplation before continuing. "I think 'no right without might' would be more accurate."

"Bah. You're mincing words again," Janaff said gruffly, but Ulki did not seem to agree with him. "If Phoenicis were to sign this treaty," he said, "would you let our soldiers leave immediately?"

"Immediately," Elincia replied without hesitation.

"You're not seriously thinking about signing this?" Janaff asked incredulously. "Don't you remember what Ike told us about the blood pacts? Once they're signed, they're incredibly hard to break, if at all. Maybe you're fine with signing this 'treaty', but I'm not!"

"That should not be a problem," Ulki said. "After all, a nation can only have one king."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Janaff scowled deeply at his friend. "Do you want to fight me to find out who is the stronger?"

"I like to think that we're evenly matched," Ulki replied. "So how about we let this decide?" He produced a small golden coin from a pocket. "It's an Imperial ducat... a memento from my first raid on a Begnion vessel, many years ago." He was too far away from Elincia to say for sure, but it seemed that there was a smile on his angular features. "You know the beorc game of heads or tails, don't you?"

_Ulki is a gambler? I had no idea..._

"You can't be serious," Janaff said incredulously. "That's no way to decide the fate of a kingdom!"

"Strange times call for strange measures," Ulki mused.

"Measure yourself," Janaff snarled in open disgust. "I'm out of here." He kept shaking his head all the way to the door of the throne room. "All hail King Ulki!" he shouted as he slipped through the door and slammed it shut behind him.

"He will see reason in time," Ulki said to Elincia, although the frown of his face looked like a sign of uncertainty. "And even if he doesn't... losing a friend is a small price to pay to preserve one's kingdom."

"Were you really going to let this coin decide?" Elincia asked doubtfully.

"No," Ulki said and shook his head. "I merely wanted Janaff to make a choice... which he did." He put the coin back into his pocket and glanced at the door through which his friend had left. "His courage and strength are equal to mine, but he aspires to a more... carefree life."

"Rest assured, the last thing a ruler can be in this world is carefree," Elincia said. "Now, Ulki... no, Hawk King..." She motioned him to approach Silok's desk. "Please sign the pact with your blood."

"I will," Ulki said with a joyless expression on his face, walked over to Silok and accepted a quill from his hands. "We will be your allies," he said to Elincia, "but neither my people nor I will hold any love for you."

"Don't worry," Elincia said bitterly, recalling Geoffrey's cruel, sudden fate that had only served to further blunt her already numb emotions. "I have no need of this foolishness called love."

"Is that so," Ulki mused and without asking cut his palm on a silver axe hanging on Kieran's belt. Its owner stared in shock at the sight of his prize weapon being blemished, but Ulki paid him no heed and dipped the quill into the blood flowing from his wound. Silok presented him the treaty, written on one of the enchanted sheets of paper Volke had brought with him from Sienne, and after a last moment of hesitation, Ulki signed it. "Now it is your turn, Queen of Crimea," he said coldly, his posture and voice revealing that he was prepared for betrayal.

_Why is everybody so distrustful of me?_ Elincia wondered, and almost burst out in laughter at her own stupid question. _I certainly wouldn't trust me if I were in his shoes, so I have no right to complain._

"Send word to our forces immediately," Elincia told one of her guards. "The soldiers of Phoenicis may depart at their leisure. Oh, and send in the envoys from Gallia on your way out."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"As for you, Hawk King," Elincia addressed Ulki. "While I'm sure you would prefer to convince yourself that your men are free to go home, I would like you to stay here for a little while longer." Ulki frowned when he heard her request, but did not protest. "Why don't you stand next to Naesala?"

Ulki grimaced at the thought of standing next to the hated Raven King (which prompted Elincia to wonder whether he despised him even more than her), but joined him obediently and without a word.

"Welcome to the fold, my fellow slave," Naesala greeted him with spurious cheerfulness. "Ah, I meant to say fellow king. Slip of the tongue." Ulki did not acknowledge his words or even his presence, but he continued nonetheless. "That's quite selfish of you, selling out your country for the sake of your personal gain. But I guess the silent types are also the ambitious ones."

"Shut your beak, Naesala," Elincia growled. "You're best seen, not heard."

"If it pleases my mistress," the Raven King replied in the chilling blend of sarcasm and hatred that he always used with Elincia. Not for the first time, she wondered whether she should replace him, but that was not a decision she would make today.

"Finally!" a deep, roaring voice suddenly sounded from the throne room's antechamber, and moments later, both wings of the door were thrown open. Marching through came Skrimir, the young King of Gallia, whom Elincia had seen lying on the ground bleeding only a few hours ago. He was accompanied by Giffca, the man who had been his uncle's shadow, and now appeared to be his successor. Elincia wondered whether he blamed her for the death of his master – there was no doubt that Skrimir did – but this was not the time to ask, and she was afraid of the answer anyway.

"Cross that line at your own peril," Elincia warned Skrimir, who was stomping toward her with no intention of stopping. She heard the sound of Bertram unsheathing his sword, but Giffca averted calamity by putting his hand on his young master's shoulders, holding him back. Skrimir glared at his shadow and shook off his hand, but did not cross the white line.

"You're a monster," he accused her instead. "Using dark magic to turn friend against friend. This is unforgivable!"

"I do not recall asking for your forgiveness," Elincia said coolly. Of course Skrimir's accusation was entirely true, so she did not bother trying to defend herself. "We are not here to talk about the past," she said, "but about the future."

"What future?" Skrimir roared. "Kill me and be done with it! That's why you called me here – so you could execute me in front of your minions." He glared at Ulki and Naesala, passed over Micaiah and the other beorc, and cast an especially hateful glance at Mordecai. "You even have a traitor from Gallia among your numbers."

"Mordecai is no traitor," Mordecai said, but Elincia shook her head. This was not the time for debates about honor and loyalty between the two laguz. "Listen to me," she said instead to Skrimir, "and try to calm–"

"Come on, do it!" Skrimir yelled and tore open his robe, revealing his chest. "Come and stab me in the heart! I'll tear your throat out before you draw a single drop of blood!"

"Your Majesty," Giffca began, but Skrimir raised a hand to make him shut up. Elincia could see the frustration on the black lion's face and sympathized with him.

"Are you to afraid to get your hands dirty?" Skrimir shouted. "Then why not send one of your many minions? Or use your mind-warping trinket on me for sports, to see how many of them I can tear apart before I fall!"

"Your Majesty, you must listen to me," Giffca tried again. "It is your duty as the King of Gallia to–"

"You don't get it!" Skrimir blurted out at him. "We are all dead! All Gallians caught in her net are dead! That witch is just having a hard time settling on the killing order!"

"She invited you here to negotiate," Giffca pleaded. "At least listen to what she has to say."

"Why should I listen to her mockery?" Skrimir snarled. "It's pointless."

"Queen Elincia," Giffca addressed her directly. "Please understand that Skrimir is still angry about what happened... about what was done to Ike. I ask you to postpone the negotiations until tomorrow."

"No," Elincia said firmly. "This must be settled today. I cannot allow this little temper tantrum of his to delay my schedule." Of course it was not a question of scheduling as much as it was one of authority – she had no intention of submitting to Skrimir's moods, especially not in front of her allies.

"I see," Giffca said and turned toward Skrimir. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," he said and slapped the King of Gallia across the face. Dead silence settled over the throne room, except for a muted chuckle that sounded like Naesala, while Skrimir stared at Giffca who did not avoid his gaze. Elincia could only see the back of his red-maned head, and wondered what expression the young king was wearing right now.

"This will have consequences," Skrimir finally said to Giffca before turning around. "I've calmed down a bit," he said to Elincia, his face marginally less red than before. "What do you want?"

_A marked improvement_, Elincia thought and made Skrimir the same offer she had made Ulki and Janaff, emphasizing that Gallia would retain full freedom over her internal affairs. She had Silok read the terms of the blood pacts for him – the wording was identical to the one with Phoenicis – and awaited his reply. When it came, Skrimir sounded like a completely different person, speaking slowly and choosing his words with care.

"When I was a young child, my uncle made me learn the beorc language. In the beginning, I had much trouble with it, but in the end, I learned to speak it well. Some of the words were particularly hard to understand... words that don't exist in nature. Words for things that can't be touched, like 'kingdom' and 'fealty' and 'law'... words that are called 'abstract'. Those were the words I struggled with."

_Where in the world is he going with this? And why is he so eloquent all of a sudden?_ There was only one reasonable answer to that question: Skrimir had always been able to speak well – as the future ruler of a nation that tried to deepen its ties with the beorc, that was to be expected, and King Caineghis would not have allowed his nephew to neglect his education. His loud, savage and angry demeanor was simply his personal choice – how he wanted to be, not how he was supposed to be. _Perhaps we will find some common ground after all_, Elincia thought, but like so many times before, her hopes were quickly shattered.

"Among those abstract words, there was one that I've never understood for many years," Skrimir continued. "Its meaning eluded me, and after a while, I suspected that the word had no meaning at all. But eventually, I was proven wrong." He made a dramatic pause and looked at Elincia with accusing eyes. "The word was 'evil'."

_Why am I not surprised?_

"There are many words to describe a beorc or a laguz of whose actions you don't approve," Skrimir said. "Prideful. Ignorant. Greedy. Reckless. Vengeful. Power-hungry. Murderous. For each of these words, I have met people who could be described by them." He gave a short laugh. "Several of them have been used to describe _me_."

_I can see why._

"Three years ago, when Ranulf returned from the war against King Ashnard, I asked him everything about it – because I had wanted to be there and prove my strength! He told me many stories, about the war and the fighting. About Ike and Ashnard and even about you, Queen of Crimea. But there was one story that stood out the most: The story about the Feral Ones." Skrimir closed his eyes in recollection even as he continued to talk. "He told me of laguz who had been twisted completely, driven insane by torture and poison. Laguz who had forgotten who they were, and were being used by Daein to fight their former friends. I didn't believe him at first, not until Giffca and others confirmed his story." Skrimir opened his eyes again, and Elincia saw deep-seated contempt in them. "That's how I learned about evil," he said. "There are many reasons to destroy a man's body... honor, anger, vengeance, war. But destroying a man's mind and soul, turning them against the ones he loved... that is true evil." He glared at Elincia with cold fury. "And that is what you have done. You destroyed Ike's mind. You made him kill his friends and family. That cannot be forgiven."

"Are you finished yet?" Elincia snarled. She knew exactly what she had done – she did not need to have it recounted by somebody else! _But isn't this what I've always asked for? That people should judge me?_

"I accept your verdict," she said to Skrimir. "I am evil, guilty as charged. Let everybody in this room take note of it." She chuckled when she saw Silok make an actual note of it on paper. "What now?"

"There's one more thing about evil," Skrimir replied. "Something that everybody I talked to agreed on." He raised his head high and somehow managed to look down on Elincia even though she was sitting in an elevated position. "Evil must be opposed."

"I take that to mean that you have no intention of signing the blood pact," Elincia said dryly.

"Correct. I know that you will threaten me now, as you have threatened them." Skrimir looked at the people on the left side of the throne – Micaiah, Naesala and Ulki – and there was more pity in his eyes than contempt. "Rather than opposing evil, they submitted to it, because they were unwilling to pay the price, because they thought that preserving lives is more important than making a stand."

_So the roaring savage turns out to be an idealist. Who would have thought it?_

"Ike made a stand," Elincia pointed out in an attempt to make Skrimir reconsider his stance, "and look what good it did to him."

"I do not fear death," the Lion King said contemptuously. "And while I _do_ fear the madness that destroyed Ike, I do not fear it enough to submit to you." He folded his arms across his chest and gave Elincia a defiant stare. "Even in the face of certain doom, evil must be opposed."

"But you will doom your people along with you," Elincia said coldly. "And their deaths will be utterly pointless."

"You didn't listen to me at all, did you? Or if you listened, you clearly didn't understand anything" Skrimir shook his head and laughed. "Beorc language _is_ useless, after all."

"I listened to you very carefully," Elincia said, "and perhaps longer than I should have."

"Then why don't you see that our deaths won't be pointless?" Skrimir asked. "Don't you understand? I acknowledge that you have the power and the will to kill me and every one of our soldiers within your borders. You may even send out your slave armies to burn down the forests of Gallia and hunt the last of the beast tribe until the ends of the earth. But just like Ranulf's tale about the Feral Ones taught me, the story of Queen Elincia and the destruction of Gallia will teach people for generations to come about the nature of evil, and that they must oppose it no matter the cost."

Elincia wanted to say something – anything – to prevent the horrible scenario Skrimir had painted from coming true, but the sheer determination in his words made her realize that it would be a futile effort. This new King of Gallia was much deeper than he had first appeared, and Elincia feared that she was out of her league. No worldy threat she could come up with would deter him from his course, and it seemed that she would have to kill him and give the throne of Gallia to somebody with less extreme views.

_I'm sorry, Mordecai_, she thought. _I promised that I wouldn't hurt any of the envoys, but I would rather lose your respect than be forced to burn down all of Gallia._

"Your Majesty." Giffca broke his long silence before Elincia could give Bertram the order to kill Skrimir. "No, my king. What you said just now was truly inspiring, and it made me feel ashamed for hitting you. I am certain that with the strength of your convictions and the clarity of your purpose, you will become an even greater king than your uncle was. And if it was just the two of us, I would gladly follow you into the jaws of death." Without warning, Giffca dropped to one knee. "But it is precisely because you _are_ the king that I must beg you to reconsider. No matter how strongly you believe in your cause, you cannot throw away the lives of all your people. I implore you to sign this document."

"I forgive you for raising you hand against me," Skrimir told Giffca, his back to the throne, and once again, Elincia would have liked to see the expression on his face. "But with regards to the blood pact, my mind is made up. I will die rather than submitting to evil, and I will make that decision for every man, woman and child in Gallia."

"Good gracious," Naesala whispered to himself. "Idealists will be the death of us all."

"No, King Skrimir," Giffca said as he rose again, "you must not do this. Of all the things in the world, sacrificing the people of Gallia for your ideals is the one thing you mustn't do. Not because I say so – I am not that presumptuous – but because you swore to your uncle in his dying moments that you would always do what is best for Gallia."

"Yes... I remember that oath," Skrimir said in a strangely melancholic tone. "But for the sake of opposing evil, I will break it."

"I see," Giffca said hoarsely and made a step back. "If that is your decision, then I must accept it." He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. "I also swore an oath that day," he continued. "I swore that I would protect you as I protected King Caineghis." He raised his fists before his chest in a gesture that was very familiar to Elincia – to anyone who had spent some time with the laguz. "I, too, will break my oath now," Giffca said and transformed.

"You...!" Skrimir jumped backwards to dodge Giffca's attack and assumed laguz form in mid-leap. Before the eyes of Elincia and her retainers, the black and the red lion tore into each other with the famed savagery of the children of strength. Her guards looked to her for guidance, and she signalled not to intervene unless her own safety was threatened.

_And there I thought I'd seen it all_, Elincia reflected, morbidly fascinated by the sight of the two massive laguz fighting to the death. Their roars were loud enough to make her ears ring, and whenever one of them landed on the floor after leaping into the air, the entire throne room seemed to tremble.

When it was all over, Elincia estimated that the fight could not have lasted longer than two minutes. Giffca transformed back into human form, having snapped Skrimir's neck between his powerful jaws, and caught his breath even as he knelt down next to the king he had just killed. He was bleeding from several wounds, but none of them fatal, and refused Elincia's offer to have a healer treat them. "I deserve much worse than these wounds for my betrayal," he said, his voice fraught with shame and regret. "But this was the only thing I could do... and I believe his uncle would have wanted me to do it." A single tear ran down Giffca's cheek as he rose to his feet. "Now Gallia will have a future again."

"So you will sign the blood pact," Elincia said. She felt horrible for getting right back to business in the face of Giffca's despair, but she was afraid that he might change his mind later.

"I would, but I cannot," Giffca replied. "No matter his strength, a former shadow can never become king. That is ancient Gallian law." He laughed bitterly. "No doubt drawn up to prevent assassinations. Our tribe would never accept a regicide as their king."

"I understand that," Elincia said. "Then who do you think will succeed Skrimir? Another member of Caineghis' family?"

"There is no one else," Giffca replied. "The lion tribe has been dwindling in numbers for some time now." He hesitated before glancing at Mordecai, who had witnessed the murder of his king without a word, but whose sorrowful expression could not be misread. "But perhaps the lions have ruled over the beast tribe long enough."

"You don't mean..." Elincia, too, looked at Mordecai, who only now became aware that he had become the subject of a conversation. "Him?"

"He is almost as strong as myself, his good nature is beyond doubting, and his mind is sharper than his speech suggests," Giffca said. "He is the perfect candidate."

"Mordecai, did you hear that?" Elincia asked the tiger laguz. "Do... do you think you could...?"

"I heard everything," Mordecai replied, devoid of any unseemly excitement at his sudden career prospects. "But I am not so sure. I left Gallia behind to help Elincia..."

"Yet you didn't once raise your hand against another member of our tribe," Giffca retorted, "which is more than can be said about me." He sighed deeply and wiped a tear from his face. "Your decades of service to King Caineghis cannot be dismissed easily. And in the light of recent... power shifts in Tellius, your decision to aid Queen Elincia might be seen in a more favorable light."

"The last weeks were full of bloodshed and death," Mordecai said sorrowfully. "I am a warrior, but I do not enjoy war. I want a peace that lasts for many, many years." He glanced at Elincia, and his gaze was not without reproach. "Ike was my friend," he said. "He did not die a good death."

"But you knew that already, and you still agreed to stay here," Elincia said almost triumphantly. "If you want peace, then my way is the only way, even if it is cruel. You fought enough during your life to understand that, don't you?"

"I am not sure," Mordecai said. "About many things. But if Master Giffca and Queen Elincia both think the same..." He looked at the sheets of paper on Silok's desk. "I will become king," he said. "I will sign this blood pact, so that Gallia can have peace."

"Then my betrayal will not have been in vain," Giffca said, bent down before Skrimir's body and somehow managed to heave the former king's corpse and put it on his shoulders. "I must present proof of my sin to the elders of Gallia," he said wearily. "I will also tell them about their new king. In the face of political realities, they will have no choice but to accept him." He turned around and walked toward the door, carrying the corpse of his master on his shoulders. "In the unlikely event that they spare my life, I will spend the rest of my days in the deep forests, trying to atone for my sin. Farewell."

With slow, seemingly painful steps, Giffca made his way out of the throne room, and as Elincia watched him leave she felt both gratitude and pity for him. He seemed resolved to carry Skrimir's body all the way to Gallia, and the weight of his guilt would weigh even heavier on him than that of the corpse on his back.

_I can't take his guilt away from him_, Elincia thought sourly. _I already bear enough of my own._

With a callousness born from the losses the had suffered, as well as the ones she had inflicted on others, Elincia quickly returned to her agenda. She asked Mordecai to sign the blood pact, and the new King of Gallia obeyed before returning to his spot next to Kieran. Another guard was sent to the fields outside Melior, conveying the queen's orders that the trapped soldiers of Gallia, too, were allowed to return home.

"That takes care of the laguz nations," Elincia said to Silok as her young secretary placed the two signed blood pacts inside the document tube. She had taken two large steps on her way to a lasting peace, and though she had just been sitting on her throne the whole time, she was already fighting mental exhaustion. "Except for Goldoa, obviously."

"What about the wolf tribe from beyond the Daein desert?" Silok asked. "You said that their queen had joined the laguz alliance."

"On our way to the city, Geoffrey told me that she was among the few who managed to escape before our encircling action was complete," Elincia replied. _If I had known what would happen once we reached Melior, I would have talked about other things with him_, she thought wearily. _More important things. _"She fled in wolf form, carrying a male heron on her back – that must have been Prince Reyson's brother."

"Is that all?" Silok asked. "Wasn't she pursued?"

"Geoffrey sent a few cavaliers after her, but she was faster than them. And besides, she's a laguz royal. Capturing her alive would probably have been very difficult." In truth, Elincia was not too worried about the wolf queen and her far-away nation and had no problem with her escape. If she knew what was best for her, she would hide in her undiscovered country and stay out of Elincia's way.

"Besides, we only had three sheets of enchanted paper," she said, "and I would rather use the last one on the Empire than waste it on a nation that nobody even knew existed until a few months ago."

"I already prepared the final treaty," Silok said eagerly and pointed at the last document lying on his desk, "with the same terms as the other ones."

"Which leaves us with the difficulty of procuring the signature," Elincia sighed. "The blood pacts are only binding if they are signed by a nation's sitting ruler. Which in case of Begnion used to be the apostle, but she's dead. We will have to find out what's going on in Sienne and tell whoever is currently on top of the power struggle that we'll execute every soldier in the Central Army if they don't sign the pact. And if that threat isn't enough, we'll have to invade the Empire with the combined force of our five nations and _make_ them sign it."

"That will not be necessary."

Elincia gasped in shock when a white-robed, black-haired man suddenly appeared in the throne room, standing perfectly still just behind the thick white line.

_Warp powder! But how did he know...?_

"Greetings, Queen Elincia," Prime Minister Sephiran said, his demeanor as calm and friendly as if he had been invited, rather than appearing in the room without warning. "It's been three years, hasn't it?"

"Why do you show yourself now, of all times?" Elincia asked, quickly regaining her composure. Her allies in the throne room were even more surprised at Sephiran's sudden entrance, since most of them did not know about the warp powder, but they could wait until later for an explanation and were quickly silenced. "You must have been watching us somehow!" she accused Sephiran. It was the only way he could have appeared perfectly on cue as he had done, and the Prime Minister did not deny it.

"The paper you used to create your blood pacts was enchanted by Imperial magic researchers," Sephiran said. "Tracking their whereabouts and using them as spying devices did not pose much of a challenge to them." His smile was almost apologetic. "I heard everything you said from the moment the documents were removed from this tube, and I thought that now was a good time for me to warp in."

"The powder doesn't weaken you?" Elincia asked suspiciously, remembering very well how its aftereffects had made her faint only a few hours ago. Sephiran was thin and not physically strong – why was he so much better off than her?

"Practice makes perfect," Sephiran smiled. "It hasn't affected me in a long time."

"So you've used it before..." Elincia thought of General Zelgius' mysterious disappearance from his cell. Had that been Sephiran's doing? Had he instructed Zelgius to frame her for Caineghis' murder? She could not ask him that directly and expect an answer, of course, so she phrased her question in more general terms.

"Tell me, Sephiran: Are you here as friend or as enemy?"

"I am here in the interest of peace," the Imperial Prime Minister said, his voice dripping with sincerity. But Elincia knew that he was a masterful politician, and that lying without flinching surely came natural to him. "I've heard a different story," she said casually. "That general... Levail was his name... he told me that you sent the Central Army to fight me."

Sephiran hesitated for only a split second, then smiled and shook his head. "I've never met the man before. He must have wanted revenge for what happened at Flaguerre."

_"What happend at Flaguerre." – A very diplomatic way to put it, not even mentioning that I was responsible. Just as I would have expected of Sephiran._

"I thought so," Elincia said with more conviction than was probably warranted. "You're not a warmonger, after all." Sephiran's face was unreadable, and she had no idea whether she could believe him, but that would not matter if she got what she wanted from him. "Tell me about the state of affairs in Sienne," she said. "I have been told that you were fighting a revolt against the Senate. Was that also a lie?"

"Oh no, I was struggling quite vigorously," Sephiran replied with just the right amount of pride. "Thanks to the Holy Knights and parts of the city garrison, I was eventually able to make the Senate submit and restore the apostle to her position of authority."

"You mean Apostle Sanaki is all right?" Elincia raised an eyebrow at this revelation. "One of my... sources told me that she is dead." _And that a fake apostle had already been chosen to replace her._

"I have no idea where your source got that idea," Sephiran said. "There is an apostle sitting on the throne in Sienne, and her name is Sanaki. That is the truth." His strange, evasive wording only confirmed that the Sanaki in question was not the one Elincia had met three years ago. She had to be the girl mentioned in Volke's report, but Elincia could understand why Sephiran could not admit her true identity in front of her guards and retainers. And besides, if the real Sanaki was dead, then her replacement was, for all intents and purposes, the Empress of the Begnion Empire.

"Then I hereby formally invite the apostle to visit Melior and sign this blood pact as the current sovereign of the Empire," Elincia said. "I understand that neither she nor you were responsible for the Senate's war against Crimea... but it still happened under your watch. By failing to prevent it, you became complicit. As a seasoned politician, I'm sure you understand my reasoning." _And if you don't... without the Central Army, the Empire will be unable to defend against a full-scale invasion. But I doubt you'll let it come this far..._

"I understand perfectly," Sephiran said. "The apostle will sign the treaty as soon as possible."

"You have my gratitude," Elincia said, even though Sephiran's unprotesting willingness to sign away parts of Begnion's sovereignty seemed more than a little bit strange to her. "I will make preparations for her visit, then."

"That won't be necessary." Sephiran turned toward Silok's desk and smiled. Elincia's secretary returned the smile politely, but the Prime Minister was not looking at him, but at the as-of-yet unsigned blood pact lying before him. "Your holiness," he said, "please hold the staff that I gave you in both hands and imagine yourself right next to me, inside the room that you're seeing in the chalice." It took Elincia a few second to realize who he was talking to. "You mean the apostle's been listening, too?" she asked.

"Quite right," Sephiran said without looking at her and spoke again to his unseen mistress. "Don't worry if it doesn't work at first, just try it again. It may also help if you close your eyes."

But in spite of Sephiran's encouragements, the apostle failed to appear, and after a minute had come and gone, he excused himself, withdrew a small crystal bottle filled with warp powder, and vanished from the throne room. Once again, Elincia wondered why he was so suspiciously forthcoming – his reputation was that of a good, but also strong-willed man who served the people of the Empire with utmost devotion. Of course he had little choice in the matter, seeing as he had heard Elincia's threat to invade Begnion, but even so, he should at least have protested, and tried to appeal to her conscience or something of the sort.

_Perhaps he's just a good enough judge of character to know that pleading with me won't work, and he wants to save himself the effort. But he stands to lose nothing by merely asking, so... does he actually _want _this treaty to be signed?_

Elincia's contemplations were cut short when Sephiran returned on the same spot as earlier, looking no worse the wear for having used warp powder three times in the span of five minutes. _Using it twice would knock out most people, and thrice might even kill them_, she thought, and wondered just how often Sephiran was using the powder. Or was he using an improved type of powder that came without side effects? It was impossible to tell.

"I am afraid that the apostle is easily frightened," Sephiran said apologetically, "and the presence of so many unfamiliar soldiers intimidates her. Watching the fight between the two Gallians just now didn't help with that, either." His words served as yet another confirmation to Elincia that the apostle in question was not the real Sanaki, because she had been the very opposite of 'easily frightened'.

"I realize that this is a bold request," Sephiran said, "but could you send all these people outside? Otherwise, I'm afraid I won't be able to convince the apostle to join us."

"Preposterous!" Kieran exclaimed. "Her majesty already suffered one fiendish attempt on her life today, and she will not permit another–"

"Thank you, Kieran, but I can speak for myself," Elincia rebuked the temporary commander of the Royal Knights – she was still debating whether she should make his appointment permanent or replace him with Bertram. Not only did she not wish to be reminded of Geoffrey's death, there had also been no need for Sephiran to know about the assassination attempt. Holding back information was one of the first rules of successful negotiations – but then again, she could not expect the boisterous Kieran to be aware of that.

"That assassin was mad with grief and had nothing to lose," Elincia explained to Sephiran. "Surely, she had absolutely nothing in common with you, Prime Minister." In response, Sephiran only smiled mysteriously.

"Very well," Elincia said loudly. "Since I want the treaty signed today, I will grant the apostle's request. Everybody, please wait in the antechamber. Silok, Bertram, you will receive further orders before you leave."

Quickly and without further objections, Kieran, Micaiah, the three laguz kings and the queen's personal guard left the throne room; some of them with apprehension, other with relief. The only one who said anything was Naesala, who stopped next to Sephiran on his way outside.

"All the gold of Kilvas is yours if you choke her while you're alone," he said, making no effort to keep his voice low. "How about it?" But the Prime Minister summarily ignored the Raven King, who shrugged and left the throne room behind Micaiah. And although his offer had been deadly serious, Elincia had no reason to fear for her safety, and not only because Sephiran was supposedly incorruptible.

"Silok," she addressed her secretary, "I entrust you with the safety, and, if necessary, the activation of the blood pacts. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the young man replied and picked up the document tube containing the pacts with Phoenicis and Gallia. "I will not hesitate to do what you would do in a crisis." It was a bold announcement, considering its potentially murderous implications, but Elincia trusted Silok not to make a promise he could not keep – he was literally incapable of empty boasting. "I'll leave the treaty intended for Begnion here, so the apostle can sign it," he said and left the room while Elincia turned to face Bertram.

"If I don't emerge alive from this room after one hour, I want you to take command of our combined forces and wipe the Empire off the face of the continent." Of course Sephiran heard her words, but he did not betray the slightest sign of anxiety. "Yesss, mistress," Bertram said, and with a threatening glare at Sephiran, he was gone, leaving him alone with Elincia.

"You seem to think that your threats protect you better than any soldier ever could," Sephiran said once the door had been shut behind him, his tone conversational.

"In this dawning age of warp powder, an assassin can enter any building in the world without warning. The effectivity of armed sentinels has already been greatly reduced," Elincia replied. Unless the man before her was not at all who he appeared to be, she was perfectly safe in his presence, for he would not risk the annihilation of his country even if he was secretly hostile toward her.

"That is true," Sephiran replied. "As a matter of fact, a mysterious incident involving warp powder took place in Sienne recently, involving the late Vice-Minister Lekain."

"I wouldn't know anything about that," Elincia said without blinking.

"Of course you wouldn't." Sephiran nodded almost imperceptibly. "But let me tell you anyway that whoever removed the blight named Lekain from this world has my personal gratitude."

_Because Lekain killed his Sanaki_, Elincia thought. Could that be the reason for the Prime Minister's readiness to collaborate with her? Gratitude for punishing the murderer of his empress? It was the best explanation she could come up with so far, but it still did not sit quite right with her.

"My Empress," Sephiran said in the direction of the enchanted sheet of paper, which somehow served as the apostle's window on the the throne room, "would you honor us with your presence now?" This time, his request was answered, and amidst a circular pattern of light, a girl appeared right next to Sephiran. Perhaps twelve years of age, she had black hair and wore stately red robes, and held a large staff in her hand which Elincia recognized as the same one Lekain had used. _It doesn't seem to have any of the side effects of the powder_, she thought. _A pity Volke didn't steal it, too._

"Well done, Sanaki... I mean, apostle," Sephiran said with a bright smile. The girl, who was still confused by her instant journey halfway across the continent, seized his hand and tried to hide behind him. "Now, now, it's impolite to hide from one's host," he said and gently prodded her back into Elincia's view.

"She told the man in black that he should destroy the Empire," the girl said, and her voice was the most telling difference from the real Sanaki, for it was hushed and insecure. "I don't like her."

"We will not give her any reasons to go through with her threat," Sephiran said gently. "And maybe you will come to like her... at a later time."

"Hello, Empress Sanaki," Elincia said. "I know your new role must be difficult for you" – there was no need to keep up pretensions while they were alone – "but please bear with me for a short time. I promise you that I won't do anything to scare you." _I already had one young girl executed today_, she thought sourly. _That should fulfill the quota for the evil queen._

"This is Queen Elincia of Crimea," Sephiran said in a gentle tone when the apostle looked up to him for guidance. "Say hello."

"Hello." It was not the most heartfelt greeting, but if sufficed. Elincia nodded at Sephiran, signalling him that he should do most of the talking, since the apostle was clearly more comfortable around him. He nodded back and led his charge to Silok's abandoned desk, and pointed at the blood pact which patiently awaited its signature.

"The queen is asking you to sign this treaty," Sephiran explained. "You learned how you write your name, didn't you?"

"Yes," the apostle said proudly. "I can do that."

_He's surprisingly friendly to her, _Elincia thought as she watched the two,_ even though she's not the real Sanaki, and though he must be reminded of the original every time he looks at her._

"Good," Sephiran said. "But I'm afraid you can't use ink." He produced a needle and a thimble from his pocket, and his expression became one of regret. "We must draw some of your blood," he said and raise the needle before Sanaki's face. "I promise it will hurt only a little."

"I won't cry," the apostle said solemnly, which made Elincia smirk. _Of course not. It's only a little prick!_ But then she realized that she had no idea under what sort of circumstances this girl had grown up to become so meek, and that she was in no position to judge her.

Just as she had promised, Sanaki did not make a sound when Sephiran pricked her finger, and when enough blood had dripped into the thimble, she proceeded to sign the pact without objections. She probably had only a faint grasp of what she was doing, but with her signature, she laid the final stone in the foundation of what might one day be called Elincia's peace.

"You have my thanks, Empress Sanaki," Elincia said and extended her hand toward the girl. Unsure, the apostle looked at Sephiran, who nodded in encouragement, and finally grasped Elincia's hand, smearing a tiny bit of blood on her palm. "This is all I needed from you," she said. "You may leave now." Her own words sounded cold and exploitative even to herself.

"Thank you," Sanaki said and picked up the rewarp staff from the floor. "Are we going home?" she asked Sephiran.

"If you don't mind going ahead, I would stay a couple of minutes longer," he replied. "You know how to get back, right?"

"Yes," Sanaki replied, and for the first time since Elincia had laid eyes on her, she smiled. "This is a fun toy," she said, closed her eyes, and disappeared.

"A fun toy indeed," Elincia said. "You'll have to make me one of those."

"It's one of a kind, but I'll see what I can do," Sephiran replied. "I'm afraid I can't let you have the prototype, because that would displease the apostle."

_Why do I get the feeling that she'll grow up to be as wilfull as her predecessor?_ Elincia asked herself and suppressed a grin. "Getting used to her new role will be hard for her," she said instead. "And being known as the apostle who surrendered the Empire to a foreign nation can't help any. Will she be all right?"

"As long as she commands the support of Prime Minister Sephiran, she will be." Sephiran sighed and shook his head. "The poor girl was thrust into this position without her consent... and even though she is not my Sanaki, I shall stand by her side as if she were her. This I have vowed."

"She is truly blessed to have a friend and servant like you," Elincia said. "That you would accept her so unconditionally after suffering the loss of the real Sanaki..."

"I did not always accept her," Sephiran whispered.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Elincia asked, and the Prime Minister only now seemed to realize that he had spoken out loud. But rather than pretending that he had not said anything, he decided to explain his remark.

"When I first met this false Sanaki, I did not see a future for her... nor the rest of the world," Sephiran said, his tone poignant to the point of melancholy. "Do you know what changed my mind?" Elincia shook her head, for she could not claim to know what was going on in Sephiran's head. "Observing you through the enchanted paper," he said to her surprise.

"I'm not sure I understand," Elincia said. "Did I do something remarkable?" _Don't tell me he's smitten with me..._

"Before watching you today, I believed the reports that you had gone insane," Sephiran explained, "and dismissed you as one of the many power-mad rulers this continent has seen throughout the centuries. But when I watched you forge a new order that would unite all the nations of Tellius under your banner, I understood that I had been wrong about you. I understood your grand design for the future." There seemed to be hints of admiration in his voice, but Elincia thought she also heard something else. Something like relief.

"You're the first to have such a positive outlook on my tyranny," she said dryly.

"Do not sell yourself so cheaply, Queen Elincia." Sephiran gazed at her intently, a look of deep-seated sadness in his clear blue eyes. "I had given up all hope. I was ready to abandon this world and all who dwell upon it, and hasten along their overdue destruction." The sadness in his eyes diminished, and a glint of hope appeared. "But you, young beorc female, have restored my faith that this war-ridden continent may not be beyond salvation."

"Beorc...?" Elincia found herself openly staring at Sephiran, perplexed by his sudden change in demeanor as well as his choice of words. Only a laguz would call a human 'beorc', but the man before her was evidently no laguz... or was he? "Who are you?" she asked, though she had no idea what kind of answer she expected.

"Someone who tried for many centuries to make people seek peace, and gave up on them in the end," Sephiran replied earnestly. "But you have shown me a new way. Perhaps harmony can only be achieved through an iron fist in a velvet glove. Enforcing peace at the threat of death seems contradictory, but it may well prove effective. Certainly more effective than my futile efforts that yielded nothing but disappointment and bitterness." He lowered his head slightly before Elincia; more than a nod, but less than a bow. "I will be watching."

"I must ask you one more time," Elincia said, more than a little confused by Sephiran's mysterious little speech. "Who are you?"

"Perhaps, one day, a friend," was his reply. "Now if you'll excuse me," he added while producing his bottle of warp powder, "I must hurry to the apostle's side." Before Elincia could think of something to say that would stop him, Sephiran sprinkled a small amount of the yellow powder on his palm and vanished from the throne room.

"Now what was that all about?" Elincia asked, half-expecting a disembodied voice to answer her. But no answer came, and since Sephiran had been nothing if not cooperative, she decided that she could postpone solving the riddle of his identity until a later time. She walked to the desk next to her throne, picked up the final blood pact and carefully curled it up. Then she sat down on her throne, the parchment roll in hand, and enjoyed a short period of rest until she would call her retainers and allies back into the room.

_I once thought of war as an evil ghost_, she reminisced. _A ghost that feeds on blood and pain and death, growing stronger the harder you try to fight it._ The imagery had used to fill her with dread, but not anymore, for she now knew how to fight that ghost. The trick was to deny it its nourishment, to starve it into submission by not permitting any more violence – and with the blood pacts giving her complete control over all the armies of Tellius, Elincia would be able to do just that.

And yet she could not feel the joy and satifscation that she should have felt, for this day that might once be celebrated as the beginning of peace was also the day Geoffrey had left her forever.

_It all began with Lucia's death_, Elincia reflected, _and now it ends with that of her brother._ Perhaps there was some deeper meaning to this irony of fate, but if there was, she was unable to appreciate it.

_And my work isn't even finished yet_, she suddenly realized. There was still someone in this world who was not bound to her will. Someone who might not approve of her sudden hegemony. Someone powerful enough to resist her and perhaps even destroy all that she had accomplished.

"No use sitting here trembling in my boots," Elincia said to herself and rose from her throne. She would pay that certain someone a visit and hopefully come to an arrangement. And if she failed...

"We'll see about that," she whispered, determined not to let anyone or anything threaten the stability of her new order. "We'll see about that."


	39. Epilogue

**Epilogue: The King and the Queen**

A cold wind was blowing across the desolate plateau high in the mountains, far to the south of Crimea and closer to the sun than Elincia had ever been. Protected against the worst of the chill by a thick, white cloak, she stood in the middle of the plateau, waiting for the arrival of the one she had come to meet. In fact, she had been waiting for over an hour now, all alone except for Apollo, her new pegasus who had carried her to this godforsaken place now that Atlas was enjoying his well-deserved retirement. Elincia suspected that she was being deliberately made to wait, which irked her greatly, but she considered it a test of her patience and endured.

It had been four weeks since Geoffrey's death – organizing today's meeting had taken that long – and things were looking up all over Tellius. All foreign armies had left Crimea and returned to their home countries, and her new order had not met with any serious challenge so far. The dead had been buried – Geoffrey in the palace gardens, at a spot where Elincia could see his headstone from her window, and Ike and his comrades in a location unknown to her, chosen by the Greil Mercenaries who were understandably unwilling to so much as talk to her. She doubted that the company would last long after the loss of their leader and all of their senior members, and even if it retained its unity, her banishment decree was still in effect. She did not expect to ever hear from them again.

Crimea's domestic reforms were coming along nicely, too: The governors appointed by Elincia had taken up their work, and even though they might not fulfill all of her expectations, they could not hope to be more obstructive and unhelpful than the old nobles even if they tried. Said nobles had all gone into exile as per royal verdict, and it seemed that their families had resigned themselves to their loss of status – none of them dared to follow the example of Alm's granddaughter, and both they and Crimea were better off for it.

_Everything is going well_, Elincia concluded her internal review, prompted by boredom and the need to distract herself from the cold. _Now if only this meeting will not end in disaster..._

As if summoned by her thoughts, a small black figure appeared at the far end of the plateau and approached Elincia. She did not wave or otherwise make her presence known, but simply waited with her arms crossed before her chest (not to convey defiance, but because it was cold) until the figure arrived before her. It turned out to be a tall young man with dark hair and a red mark on his forehead, wearing a simple black robe that seemed much to flimsy to protect him from the wind.

"Greetings, Queen Elincia," he said with a polite smile. "I apologize if I made you wait overly long in this cold weather."

"It's fine," Elincia lied. "Really. I'm tougher than I look."

"Yes, you proved that beyond any doubt during the last few months," the young man said. "News is usually slow to reach our kind, but the tale of Queen Elincia's ascendancy turned out to be the exception to the rule."

"I hope your people don't believe all the horrible things my detractors accuse me of," Elincia said dryly, "because the truth is much worse."

"Ours is not a squeamish people... though I personally was saddened by some of the stories I heard." The young man raised his hand to pre-empt a reply from Elincia. "But I won't waste any more of your time with my concerns. After all, you did not come here to visit me. I merely came here to greet you as a matter of protocol... and because I wanted to see you from up close." He looked back over his shoulder, and Elincia followed his gaze to the far end of the plateau where a second black figure had appeared and was walking toward them. "My father will meet you now," Kurthnaga said and returned whence he had come, exchanging a single glance with the second, taller figure when they passed each other.

_I'm nervous, _Elincia realized as the father of the young man approached her. _I shouldn't be, but I am. And he is bound to pick up on that. _

_Well, it can't be helped._

The man she had come to meet walked slowly, much more slowly than his son had, as if he had all the time in the world – which was not too far from the truth. He was probably the only person on the continent who could make Elincia wait, but she now realized that his slowness was not some sort of statement – he simply walked slowly because he chose to, as if it was already an affront to expect him to move at all.

After what seemed like another hour atop the solitary mountain plateau, the man she had come to see finally stood before Elincia, his arms folded before his chest just like hers. He was two heads taller than her, completely bald, and his small black eyes looked like they could stare a hole into the very mountain. He planted himself in front of her, his expression like that of a rock, and inspected her. She allowed his inspection to run its course (taking up another ten minutes at the very least), sorely tempted several times to speak up, but held back by the notion that he would consider it a sign of impatience – surely the worst of all sins for a man who moved at the pace of a glacier.

Finally, when he had drawn whatever conclusions he might from his inspection, Dheginsea began to speak.

"This is the first time a beorc has been invited into my nation in more than five hundred years," he said in lieu of a greeting. His words were not meant to honor her, Elincia realized, but simply to state a fact. "Name your business with Goldoa."

While preparing for this meeting, Elincia had given much thought to the problem of phrasing. She was certainly not going to ask Dheginsea for his approval of her hegemony, but she had to broach the topic of her new order somehow, preferably without appearing threatening. In the end, she had decided on the opener that was the most neutral, but also the least urgent-sounding. "I am here to talk about future relations between our countries," she said, and was successful at keeping her voice steady in the face of the ancient Dragon King.

"Goldoa has no relations with the outside world," Dheginsea said. "I did not come here to speak the language of diplomacy," he added with an air of annoyance. "Speak frankly. Rest assured that is not within your power to offend me."

"I'm glad to hear that," Elincia said and decided to take the Dragon King by his words. "What guarantees does Goldoa want?"

"I do not understand," Dheginsea rumbled. "Guarantees for what?"

"That I won't target you next. That I won't try to conquer your nation with my armies. That I won't try to subdue the last monarch on Tellius who is not treaty-bound to me." _Isn't all this obvious?_

"Are you announcing your intentions?" Dheginsea asked.

"No, of course not!" _Talking to a stone would be more productive than this!_ "I'm just trying to address the concerns you must have about my sudden rise to hegemony."

"Goldoa does not concern itself with the outside world," the Dragon King said, almost word for word a repetition of his earlier sentence. Was he just pretending, or had he really no idea why Elincia wanted to come to an agreement with him?

Then it dawned on her that ancient though he was, Dheginsea truly had no idea how to conduct diplomacy – small wonder, seeing as he took pride in the fact that his nation had no foreign relations whatsoever. Was this meeting going to end without any tangible results?

"What would have to happen for you to go to war with Crimea?" Elincia finally asked her true question. Dheginsea's response was instantaneous.

"Goldoa will not go to war unless war is brought to us. That law is as old as our nation itself." He frowned, the first change in his expression since the beginning of the meeting. "Are you, by any chance, afraid that we will attack you?"

"I... I considered the possibility," Elincia said evasively. "Because I thought you might feel threatened by me."

"Many centuries ago, when the Begnion Empire ruled over all the lands of Tellius except Goldoa, they commanded a power just as great as yours," the Dragon King said in a tone rife with reminiscence. "But they still did not dare attack the dragon tribe. I am not concerned about your intentions. We will give you no reason to make war on Goldoa, and we will maintain our isolation... if only out of habit."

"What do you mean by that?" Elincia asked. "Is the real reason for your isolation no longer valid?" She wondered whether she was treading on dangerous territory here, asking questions that she was not supposed to ask. But Dheginsea had assured her that she could say nothing to insult him, and she felt she could take him by his word.

"Goldoa's isolation was born out of my desire to avoid war," the Dragon King said, surprisingly forthcoming with information. "Since we could not prevent the other nations from going to war, we could at least decide not to contribute to it."

"So that's why," Elincia nodded. "We never knew about Goldoa's motives, so the best we could do was guess." She unvoluntarily touched the belt pouch containing Lehran's Medallion. "You must have wished to keep the dark god from awakening."

"Indeed," Dheginsea said. "Nobody knows as well as I just what kind of threat the ... the dark god poses. But our isolation did little to contain the flames of strife," he continued with open dismay. "Even at the apex of the Empire's might, rebellions and uprisings frequently broke out, and the bloodshed never stopped." He looked at Elincia with an intensity that surpassed even his scrutiny of his earlier inspection. "But this time, things may be different."

"I share your distaste for war," Elincia said, happy to have finally found some common ground with the ancient ruler of Goldoa. "And I have something the old Empire didn't have... the means to prevent the other nations from rebelling against my hegemony."

"You are referring to the blood pacts invented by Begnion. We learned of their existence several decades ago, but it seems that they have only now been put to good use."

"Good use?" Elincia asked in surprise. "You mean you approve of my methods?"

"The ends justify the means," the Dragon King said with utter conviction. "To be honest, I had expected Begnion to use the blood pacts to ensure continental hegemony. But in the end, it makes no difference who wields that power, as long as it _is_ wielded." For the first time during this meeting, he turned his gaze away from Elincia and looked at the sky, as if he was seeing something there that was visible only to him.

"Perhaps now, the flames of war will die down forever," he said, his voice almost longing. "Perhaps now, the continent will see the lasting peace that was once promised."

"I've been told something similar not long ago," Elincia remarked, recalling the enigmatic words of Prime Minister Sephiran. "By someone who said he had lost all hope for this world."

"I can imagine who it was." Dheginsea nodded. "He has suffered much during those many centuries of warfare... much more than I, who closed myself up against the world. Perhaps he will find a peace of his own now." There was something resembling a smile on the Dragon King's stony face. "And perhaps he will visit me again. It has been a long time since we last met, and we parted in anger."

Rather than answering them, the Dragon King's words raised even more questions about Sephiran's identity, but Elincia doubted that she would learn much more today. "So the dragon tribe will not oppose my ascendancy?" she asked just to make sure one more time before she left. "You will not try to overthrow me?"

"That is correct," Dheginsea nodded and locked gazes with her once more. "Goldoa will not move against you unless you force our hand."

"I promise that won't happen," Elincia said solemnly.

"I shall place a measure of my trust in you," Dheginsea replied. After that, he said nothing more for a long while, looking at the sky again, and Elincia took it to understand that their conversation was over. "Then I shall depart now," she said. "Farewell."

"Farewell indeed," Dheginsea said, as if the word had some hidden meaning only he knew about. "You beorc are so short-lived. Unless you break your promise, I doubt we will ever meet again." Even though she was still young, Dheginsea's sobering words made Elincia painfully aware of her mortality, and she turned to leave without another word. But before she could mount Apollo, the voice of the Dragon King resounded once more.

"Hold!"

"Yes?" Elincia turned around and saw that Dheginsea was extending his right arm toward her. "Did you forget something?"

"I have felt a familiar presence ever since I set foot on this plateau," he replied. "You carry Lehran's Medallion with you."

"Yes," Elincia admitted. "I always have it on me. It's safer that way... to prevent accidents from occurring." She waited for Dheginsea to say something, but he remained strangely silent for a while, occasionally moving a facial muscle in what might have been a display of internal struggles. _Don't tell me he wants to have it!_ she thought, immediately followed by the question: _Would I relinquish it to him?_

"I am... uncertain what to do," the Dragon King admitted. "I..." He hesitated again, and Elincia wondered what might give someone like him pause. "May I see the medallion?" he finally asked.

"Of course," Elincia said and removed the inconspicuous bronze medallion from her belt pouch. _As long as you don't try to touch it. _"Here it is." She presented it to Dheginsea, protected from madness by her thick fur gloves, and he looked at it with something like... regret? But Elincia was far from certain, since reading the Dragon King's emotions was like feeling one's way through a dark room while wearing a blindfold.

_By 'familiar presence' he must be referring to the dark god... after all, he was one of the heroes who banished it centuries ago._

"I do not know if you can hear me," Dheginsea said, his gaze resting on the medallion. "But if you can..." He gulped, visibly reluctant to go on, but in the end he found the resolve to continue. "I am sorry for lying about you for so very long. If this beorc woman keeps her promise and the peace lasts... then I will reveal the truth to the world one day." He appeared to smirk, but he could just as well have been grimacing. "That is, in a century or two." Then he closed his eyes and exhaled, as if he had just done something tremendously difficult.

"Is that all?" Elincia asked, unable to make much sense of Dheginsea's words. Had he just apologized to the dark god? It had sounded like that, but it made very little sense.

"Yes," the Dragon King said and opened his eyes again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Elincia replied and put the Fire Emblem back into her pouch. "Uh... could you explain to me what this was all about?" she asked.

"That is not for you to know."

_And there I thought he had become personable. Oh well... I don't have to solve all the mysteries in the world._

"Then I bid you farewell once more, King Dheginsea," Elincia said.

"Farewell, Queen of Tellius," the Dragon King replied and turned his back on her, walking away every bit as slowly as before.

_Queen of Tellius,_ Elincia thought as she watched him depart. _Somehow, I don't think he was the last to call me that._ She mounted Apollo, but did not take off yet: Now that she had gotten somewhat used to the cold, she realized that the snow-capped mountains of northern Goldoa, the highest on the continent, made for a beautiful vista. There might not be another living soul as far as the eye could see, but at the same time, the loneliness of these lofty peaks exerted a strange fascination on her. This was a place far removed from all the pain and grief and sorrow of the world, and for a moment, she could understand the appeal which complete isolation held for Dheginsea and his people.

_But this is not for me_, Elincia reminded herself. She had a country to rule, and a people to protect, and even with the blood pacts, there would still be pain and grief and sorrow... but hopefully not quite as much as during the past few months.

"Come on, Apollo," she said and pulled the reins of her pegasus, after making sure that Dheginsea had cleared the plateau. "We're going home." He snickered obediently, and a few moments later, Elincia was airborne in the skies of Goldoa, her mission accomplished and her grand work finally finished. With Dheginsea's promise not to oppose her hegemony, the last possible threat to her new order had disappeared, and she had finally brought about what she had once promised: The end of war. And not just the end of a particular war, but _any_ war, at the very least for as long as she was alive, and longer than that if her heirs would stand true to her ideals.

_Was it worth the price I paid... and the price I exacted from others?_

As she soared through the sky toward her beloved Crimea, Elincia decided that history would be the judge of that.

THE END

* * *

_Closing Notes: And that's it. I hope the ending wasn't too abrupt; I noticed that several reviewers seemed to expect more after the death of Ike. But I had always envisioned his fall as the climax of the story, because there's probably nothing that would evoke a similar emotional reaction in Elincia. And since I didn't want to repeat the epic finale of Radiant Dawn, I let sleeping gods lie, which is what one might benevolently call a twist after making so much of a fuss about the dangers of Lehran's Medallion. You could also call it reader deception, but as we all know now, the ends justify the means. Or something like that.  
_

_So in the end, Elincia pretty much won, no matter how much she lost. That, too, may not be welcomed by every reader, but I think it is a fitting end to the story, and the prospect of a Pax Elincia is really not that bad if you take a step back and look at it from a distance. After all, moral ambivalence was pretty much the ongoing theme of the story, and there doesn't really need to be a "message". If I ever want to spread a message, I'll write a proper manifesto.  
_

_Anyway, I'm rambling. So, thanks to everybody who read and reviewed the story (and assured me that I did not let Elincia drift into "complete monster" territory). Although it was pretty bleak most of the time, I had fun writing it, and I hope this won't be my last story written for this site. So long,_

_Lord Syntax  
_


End file.
